Hetalia - The Cold of War
by Lollipoplou
Summary: Sequel to Hetalia - Of Magic and Might. SteamPunk AU. Winter has come, the War has began. Arthur Kirkland has joined the fight against the Empire and travels to the allied Nordic Kingdom with the Rebels and dear friend Alfred Jones. The cold North holds many secrets for our heroes as the Capital launches it's military assault. When the world is in chaos, all bets are off. USUK
1. Chapter 1 - Discovery

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Sequel to Hetalia - Of Magic and Might. SteamPunk AU.

Winter has come, and it has brought war with it. Arthur Kirkland has joined the fight against the Empire and travels up North to the cold allied Nordic Kingdom with the Resistance led by Ludwig Beilschmidt. The North holds many secrets for our heroes as the Capital begins rallying its own military assault. As old and new faces appear and as strange new powers awake, Arthur becomes unsure of who he can truly trust. When the world is in chaos, all bets are off.

Hello and welcome to Hetalia - The Cold of War. This is the sequel to Hetalia - Of Magic and Might, so if you haven't read that then go and check it out. Of course you don't have to, but you'll probably be extremely confused. But that's okay. It's okay to be confused sometimes.

And now, I proudly give you the second part of this epic tale.

Enjoy!

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The Capital, The Winter Palace, Roderick Edelstein's Office

"The snow is beautiful is it not? My brother will be so pleased, it always reminded him of her" Natasha commented as she stood beside the wall length window and looked upon the sleeping city below. The glowing lights of the buildings looking like fireflies against the inky darkness of the night.

"He won't be pleased when he hears that we have no process to report on" Roderick grumbly remarked as he shuffled through the suspect files Natasha had brought into his now messy office. He hated this. Meaningless work that offered no chance of success. He and Natasha, along with their regular work load, had been struggling to complete their task that their glorious leader had set them for the past number of weeks. It was strenuous with no leads apart from the long list of suspects. In Roderick's opinion even the list was a long stretch, being made up of citizens who moved into the Capital in the last seven years. He wanted to be with Elizabeth, to wrap his arms around her soft body.

"You are such a sour puss Roderick. I would of thought your new bird had sweetened that bitter tongue of yours" Natasha teased as she traced the outline of a star constellation onto the condensation gathered on window from her warm breath.

"Do not call Elizabeth that. She deserves more then your undercutting mockery, Natasha" Roderick snapped in retaliation, his hands searching for the next set of files of look through. For the fourth time that night. Natasha laughed at Roderick's ploy, acting the knight in shining armour.

"So high strung. Well you certainly seem attached to her so I assume that she knows what your job and all the underhanded work it entails," Natasha made a humming noise briefly as if to portray herself thinking deeply "do you plan to wed her?" She asked seriously as she actually looked at Roderick in the eyes, something she usually avoided. Roderick paused for a second before lowering the file in his hands and returning Natasha's stare.

"I do. Though not until things have calmed down. Things would be too complicated if we did to now. Anyway, back to these gods-be-damned suspects. Next list; John Anderson, Andy Ackles, Robert Banners, Francis Bonnefoy, Estella Cantabella, Amy Fickle, Henry Hall, Harriet Hall, Iggy Ittle, David Kevin, Arthur Kirkland-" Roderick stuttered and narrowed his indigo eyes at the name. What was this? A wave of déjà slammed into Roderick. Kirkland? Kirkland? Where had he heard that name before? What was this?

"Roderick? Did you find something?," Natasha asked as she came over to where Roderick had set up the files. Roderick had one hand pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses and his eyes crunched close in concentration. Natasha looked down at the list he has holding and frowned at the name he was getting frustrated over. Arthur Kirkland. "What's different with Arthur Kirkland?"

"I've heard the name Kirkland before. Let me see his file" Roderick spoke hurriedly with an impatient snap of his fingers, asking for Natasha to put the profile into his hand. Natasha with equal haste quickly found the file and handed it to Roderick, feeling the adrenaline rush of getting caught up in the excitement of a potential lead. Roderick grabbed the file and flicked it open, staring at the paper that gave a detailed description of the man. A profile picture was attached to the corner of the paper by a metal paper clip. Roderick stared at the picture with dawning realisation. He had seen this person before. The man in the photograph had short messy golden blonde hair and above his deep green eyes, were two distinctive unforgettably thick eyebrows. The same eyebrows from that day. Roderick choked on nothing and dropped the file, letting it sail to the floor. It was impossible, no…

Not impossible. Improbable.

Roderick with great difficulty released his pent up breath from his lungs and attempted to slow his racing heart beat. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to pray for it not to be true. And yet deep down he knew it was.

"Arthur Kirkland," Roderick said breathlessly, gulping down the suffocating lump in his throat. "I am without a doubt certain, that this man. Arthur Kirkland, is the one we are searching for" he whispered to the motionless Natasha.

"How can you be so sure? I personally interviewed this man and nothing incredibly odd was noted" Natasha inquired as she crossed her slender arms across her chest. She daren't give too much hope for fear of failure.

"Because the year after your brother came to the throne, he ordered me to conduct a man hunt for all sorcerers in the Isles. It would be roughly six years from now when I personally led a hunt after one of the most respected families in the sorcerers' community, the Kirkland's. It was the riskiest mission I had ever done and my greatest failure in the eyes of the Emperor. He had insisted that I brought all of them before him. He even gave me a previously captured sorcerer to assist in tracking. There had been four brothers, one of my men idiotically diverted from orders and killed one of them. Inside I was ballistic, his majesty had specially wanted all of them. I had tried to regain control of the situation, prevent any more needless deaths but the older brothers had already made their move. Before I understood what was happening they had pushed the youngest one through a teleportation gate and destroyed it, preventing me from following" Roderick explained, taking a deep breath in before he continued.

"It was terrible. I had lost two targets and the remaining brothers put up a violent struggle. The eldest was beginning to conjure a storm or something akin to it, when my men attacked in desperation. The eldest would have been impaled if his brother hadn't pushed him aside. Fortunately the spears blow wasn't fatal and luckily it caused its victim to collapse. The eldest one was furious and was about to attack when some kind of harpy came out of the sky, slammed his head against the ground and took off with its meal. It flew out of sight before we could shoot it down. Out of the four sorcerers, I had only successfully captured one.

It was a failure, Natasha. In the end I presented one sorcerer in chains and the corpse of the other. Be thankful you were not in attendance that day Natasha. Your brother's fury was terrifying, like a violent force of nature. I had never feared for my life more then I did that day"

Natasha sat down as her mind processed the amazing piece of history she had been told. Arthur Kirkland was the missing sorcerer they were looking for? The handsome British gentleman? She had sat right in front of him! She had him in her office! How could she of been such a fool?! She no longer doubted Roderick's logic, his story rung with undeniable truth and his reaction to the discovery was genuine.

"So we have our target. Now we just have to track him down" Natasha summarised as she kept her first class poker face on, while inside her heart was near launching out of her chest with anticipation and excitement. Wait until her brother heard! Roderick had also recovered his cool demeanour, his usual sly smile already back on his lips.

"Tracking him won't be too much of an issue. We'll just use the same sorcerer who tracked him down the last time. I think it's time to pay dear Vladimir a little visit"

* * *

Ooohh the cat is out of the bag, Mwhahahaha! Hmm so the Empire finally know who their target is. and not only that but we learn what happened after Arthur has pushed out the scenes and that Vlad is still alive! Despite there being not a lot of action, I wanted the first chapter to set up for future chapters to come. If I had to use one word to sum up this part I would use Revelations. We are coming to be doing a lot of exploring with these characters as they struggle to survive in the war. I am so hyped for what is to come and I hope you will be to :D

Small note: Aw look how romantic Roderick is, wanting to marry Elizabeth. What a sweet, charming relationship. It'd be shame... If anything happened to it *diabolically laughs*

Thank you for reading this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. I am so pleased to continue this story into a sequel that people want to see happen. It is so amazing to see people actually enjoying your content and requesting to see more, you guys are the best (around, nothing's ever gonna get you down!).

 **If you are enjoying this sequel or the story in general, please be sure to leave a review to tell me your opinions, questions and predictions. I'm sure everyone is aware about the view counter problem that is currently happening on fanfiction. Unfortunately because of this I won't be able to tell how many people view this and will have no idea when to post the next chapter. It would help tremendously if you leave a review or a follow after reading the chapter to let me know you've read it and perhaps what you thought of it. I am sorry but this is the only way I can moderate views at the moment, so please be sure to help. I want to keep posting as along you want to read it :) Once again thank you for reading**

Until next time folks!


	2. Chapter 2 - Stealth Mode

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 2 of the new sequel! I'm sorry for the late update but ultimately school must come first unfortunately.

Question and Answers time!:

Alfredian asks: Was the harpy from last chapter a easy way to kill off Allistor?

No, no. No. It was not. I believe it would help you keep in mind that Roderick's story was from his perceptive. So the rushed vision of events, that's intentional. And who knows, all we see a limp Allistor being carried off. We don't know why the harpy even appeared *wink wink*. It was not lazy writing, I do actually have reasoning and backing for the action. Relax Dawg, I'll explain in time :)

And now, I present you the next chapter

Enjoy!

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55 miles away from the Traffic Border Control of the Capital, The Rebel Airship 'The Gallon', The helm.

"I can't say I like this idea. Taking out the Traffic Control tower so we can cut over The Capital? It seems far too risky" Arthur Kirkland complained as he gripped the wooden wheel helm harder and spun it twenty degrees to the left, causing the Gallon to turn slightly in the intended direction. Behind him Ludwig leaned over the navigation table with a large map of the Isles and traced the journey of line with his finger, the line cutting diagonal across where the Capital Airship Crossing would be before travelling up over the Capital.

"True it has its risks, but Ivan wouldn't dare attack us while we are directly over the Capital. Once we break through Border Control, we should have a few minutes before the Empire is alerted of our presence. By then we'll already be above the Capital" Ludwig explained carefully, his tone suggesting that there was something else he wasn't mentioning.

"And what happens when we move out of Capital Air space? Ivan will wave to us from his bathtub in the Winter Palace?" Arthur smirked at his own joke as he tapped the altitude gauge to make sure it was accurate, his other hand on the electric order telegraph handle. The Gallon was sailed smoothly through the evening sky, the wind unusually gentle despite the freezing edge it held.

"When we travel out of Capital Air space, I trust you to get us North as quickly as possible. Is that understood Arthur?," Ludwig stated authoritatively as he put Arthur back in his place. Ludwig wanted to trust and be trusted but he wouldn't tolerate disrespect from those under him. "Radio the other ship and then go and meet Kiku and prepare for cross"

"Yes Sir," Arthur gritted through his teeth as he lowered the E.O.T handle to 'Half Speed'. Arthur lowered the microphone piece on his radio headphones level to his mouth and flicked on the power switch.

"This is Arthur Kirkland of the Gallon, do you read?" Arthur spoke clearly into the microphone, praying that Jonny had sense enough to give the radio on.

"Yo Captain! This Jonny boy hearin' you loud and clear! We're all good on our end, just waitin' for you" Jonny's voice boomed into Arthur's ear, causing him to wince at the pain.

"I'm not Captain Jonny, Ludwig is remember? Just stay on our tail while we disable the tower. I'll radio when I'm back. Over" Arthur finished as he flicked the radio power off and took the pilot's headphones carefully before resting them on their restful place.

Behind Arthur Dominic Shard has appeared at the door and was conversing quietly with Ludwig when Arthur turned away the wooden helm.

"It's all yours" Arthur said to Dominic as he passed him on his way out the door. Dominic refused to acknowledge Arthur had spoken and ignored him as he took Arthur's place as pilot. Lousy git, Arthur thought as he made his way down the planked stairs to the deck.

When Arthur reached the bottom of the wide stairs, his eyes flickered across the broad wooden deck of the Gallon as he searched for Kiku. Along both sides of the ship multiple loaded rail-guns and heavy artillery cannons were being manned by milling men. On the starboard side, Arthur spied Kiku speaking with Alfred as he leaned idly against one of the cannons. Kiku and Alfred both wore thick protective winter coats with the collars pulled over their mouths and their gloved hands shoved inside their pockets to preserve heat. Despite only seeing half of his face, Arthur could tell that Kiku was fairly nervous for their mission. Arthur didn't blame him, everyone was relying on them. Relying on them to buy enough time to get into Capital Airspace.

"Kiku, Alfred" Arthur greeted as he approached them, his dark green cloak being whipped to and tho in the bitter wind. The sun was low in the Orange sky and as it drew further away, it's warm rays began to disappear from the world and sent the temperature skydiving. It had been a day since the Gallon and its twin had set off on their maiden voyage, with two more days to go before they arrived North.

"Hello Arthur, are you ready to go?" Kiku asked with one slender raised eyebrow hidden behind his dark bangs. Arthur nodded once and turned his head so he could see the Control Tower that was nearly seven miles away and closing. The tower stood impressively against the pearling skyline of the Capital, rows upon rows of agile mobile airships poised for flight on the ground beside it.

"So once you two are inside you'll be racing to destroy the radio before they can see through you and send for reinforcements, all the while making sure not one person hits an red emergency button and locks the building down. I can't say I envy you" Alfred joked without humour, he had not been pleased that Ludwig was sending Arthur and Kiku without support.

"There is an element of stealth to it. Everyone knows it's not your strong point Alfred" Kiku pointed out logically to Alfred who huffed his annoyance in response. The Gallon had slowed to a stop as was now parked alongside the Control Tower, it's daunting height loomed menacingly over Arthur. At least there's some lower windows, Arthur thought as he saw the two lower circular port windows on the lower part of the building.

"Stick to the plan, I scale the outside, enter through one of the windows and search for and destroy the long range radio broadcasting station. While you go inside and if need be, start taking them out to draw their forces. I don't think they'll radio the mainland until they're appended you, so that'll give us time if we get desperate" Arthur said in a low voice to Kiku as they walked to the edge of the bopping ship. There was only a one metre distance between the Gallon and the mini floating island, Arthur gave Alfred a quick look behind before rushing forward with Kiku and leaping across the gap. The pair of them landing catlike on the balls of their feet, like a flash Arthur swiftly sprinted over to the building and hid just as two guards exited the tower. The two men were lean and had matching tattoos on their forearms. Their stylishly shaved eyebrows were frowned as they observed the small Asian.

"What do you want?" One of them asked as he scratched his afternoon shadow. His partner stared Kiku down suspiciously but said nothing.

"I've come to ask permission to dock in the Capital. My Captain is bringing in a shipment in the name of Yao Wang" Kiku smoothly replied with quiet confidence, his lie believable to the untrained ear. The men gave The Gallon and its twin a once over before appearing satisfied and gestured for Kiku to follow them inside. Arthur watched from his hiding place until he heard the door close, he stepped out of his hiding place and looked up at the huge tower as he searched for his first foot hole.

Quickly Arthur cast a enlightening spell on his body. The spell temporarily decreased his weight and would allow him to safely jump and land from great distances. Clenching his teeth, Arthur crouched and fitted his eyes on his desired foot hold. He straightened out of his crouch and sent himself soaring into the air,nearly over shooting his target. Stretching his hand out, Arthur gripped his stony hold and shot his other hand out to find another stone to grip on.

Arthur clung to the tower like a baby monkey would cling to its mother's back. As he slowly regained his breath, Arthur peeked down below him and saw with swaying nausea that he had jumped a good fifteen metres off the ground. Over on the Gallon the men applauded and cheered as they watched Arthur slowly crawl upwards towards the circular window. Arthur paused just below the window and waited for the presence he sensed on the other side to pass. Once Arthur felt the presence move away from the window, he pulled himself up level to the glass.

"Okay, okay. Okay" Arthur repeated over to himself for reassurance as his half gloved hands fumbled at the window, his fingers brushed over the lock and a clicking noise of release was heard. The window swung up and Arthur heaved himself up and through the window. It was a particularly amusing sight for the watching rebels as they saw a pair of wiggling legs struggle to get its upper body inside the small window. Inside the tower Arthur gave a powerful shove and heaved the rest of his body into the warm room, his back hitting the wooden floor painfully with a loud thud.

Arthur hissed and rubbed his back as he slowly got to his feet. The room he had squeezed into was snug with many filled bookshelves and dim lighting. Arthur assumed it was a records room as he closed the window and crept over to the door, peering through the key hole. From his limited vision, Arthur could see that the inner structure of the building was alike to a lighthouse with a spiral staircase giving access to all levels. From the noise level, there didn't appear to be many guards. Perhaps ten at most, and they sounded as though they were concentrated on the lower levels where would be Kiku. Silently Arthur pulled the the door handle downwards and darted out of the room onto the staircase. He bolted left and on the next door he encountered, he pressed his ear against the wood listening while his eyes keep darting up and down the stairs for guards. With the all clear from both his senses, Arthur twisted the brass knob and smoothly slipped in as he pulled the door to behind him.

As he closed the door, Arthur noticed that there was a steel key already in the lock. Better safe then sorry, he thought as he turned the key and locked himself inside. Arthur turned around and peered into the dark room, the only source of light was the dimming sunlight coming through the window. In the room there was a lumpy dust ridden couch facing away from him with a blanket thrown over it and in the shadowed corner a lone broom rested. A smile drew on Arthur's lips as he spied the radio broadcasting box sitting on a wooden table with matching chair in front of where he stood. Arthur crossed the room and carefully examined the box for the power wire. The box was large and bulky, it's covering screwed on tightly making it impossible to remove without the correct tools.

"Bollocks, nuts and bolts. This really isn't my kind of thing," Arthur complained quietly to himself, his eyes resting on the window and a cheeky grin stretching his lips at his brilliant idea "Now there's the ticket" Arthur struggled to lift the broadcasting box in his arms and carry it over to the window, fumbling with it as he lifted the latch on the window and shoved it open.

"Bombs away" Arthur mischievously grinned as he pushed the broadcasting box out the window, it's heavy weight immediately giving in Gravity as it plummeted outside the tower. Arthur watched with his head out the window until the box finally smashed against the earth. The metal made a loud crunching sound and crumpled on itself, looking like a squashed metal raisin.

Arthur patted himself on the back and laughed at the ridiculousness of his action. That was actually quite fun! Arthur thought giddily. Maybe he should be a bit more childish in the future, he'd forgotten how cracking it was!. Brushing his hands together Arthur was about to turn around, when he felt a thick arm lock itself around his neck.

* * *

Cliff Hanger! Aw childish Arthus is fun time Arthur. I feel like because of his past, Arthur rarely got to have genuine childish moments where he could be a goof ball. It's a shame his moment got interrupted ;)

Abit of a jump but I figured we'd just want to get back right into it. More answer and secrets to come! Really excited and I'm so glad you're all being so patient with me.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story and would like to see more, please take the time to leave a review telling me your opinions, thoughts and questions. They're little rays of motivation in my life :) Once again thank you for reading.

Untill next time folks!


	3. Chapter 3 - Back in the Capital

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 3! Woo woo! Thank you for all your lovely reviews, you guys rock :) And now, the chapter.

Enjoy!

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30 miles away from The Capital, The Capital Border Control, The Radio Broadcasting Room

"Hmph!" Arthur cried out in shock as he felt a beefy hand clamp down over his mouth and a muscular forearm cut off his air way. The man behind tightened his suffocating grip on Arthur and raised him so Arthur's feet dangled uselessly off the floor.

"Little birdies should know better to into the jaws of beasts" A snide voice hissed into Arthur's ear, the attacker's body well built and easily subdued Arthur's squirming attempts to break free. Arthur panicked his lungs began to scream for air. His mouth gasping for air that won't be. Arthur's vision was starting to turn blurry from the lack of oxygen. If he didn't break free, he'd be out and at the mercy of this fiend.

With difficulty Arthur ceased trying to dislodge the hand over his mouth and reached up, pressing his hand against his assaulter's face. With large black spots took over his vision, Arthur desperately summoned scolding white-hot flames into the palm of his hand. The villain screamed as the side of his face rippled severe third degree burns, his face spouted multiple excruciatingly painful blisters. The attacker released Arthur, letting him smack onto the floor as he retreated and clutched his face howling. Arthur collapsed onto the floor spluttering and coughing as he tried to regain his breath. His dizziness began to subside as he hungrily gulped down air, his throat raw and his vision clearer.

"Wonder which one of us is the 'little birdie' now?" Arthur sarcastically replied with rough, scratchy voice as he stood up on shaky legs. The man clumsily stumbled to his feet, his face still smoking and the horrible smell of burning flesh emitted from him. The man gave a roar as he charged in blind rage towards Arthur. Instinctive with fear and adrenaline Arthur shot his hand out and telepathically pushed at the man.

From somewhere within Arthur he did not know, a once chained powerful torrent of power rose up within him. The energy burst out of Arthur like a tsunami, wild and terrifying. Nothing could of prepared him for what happened next.

The man snapped backwards as though he were a rag doll thrown in the path of a speeding train. His body collided and splintered through the locked door with back breaking strength as he was launched backwards. Continuing his flight, the man flew across the wide stairwell and collided the opposite stone wall of the inner tower with a crack, before his body fell forward and slammed down against the metal stairs. His heavy body still with his limps struck out at unnatural angles.

Arthur felt horrified as he looked down at his trembling hands, as if to check they were his. What, the hell was that? Arthur tried to comprehend as he slowly walked through the door that now had a splintered hole at its centre. Arthur felt confused and scared as he looked down at the crumpled body of the man who had attacked him. The horrified look of terror was stuck frozen on the now dead man's face. The back of his head had cracked open, a bloody grotesque mess of brain tissue and fractured bone. The body looked how the radio broadcasting box had when Arthur had dropped it out the sick irony made Arthur nauseous as he willed himself not to vomit. His chaotic mind distracted him from the onlookers on the ground floor..

"Up there!" A voice shouted from below, snapping Arthur out of his heavy thoughts and back to the present. Arthur looked down and saw multiple pairs of horrified wide eyes staring back up at him. On the ground floor It looked like the plan had been going smoothly until Arthur's interruption, Kiku stood solely confided at the centre of the watchers.

"Time to go" Arthur squeaked as he watched several pissed off guards rush up the winding stairs towards him, their swords already unsheathed and glinting with ill intentions. Arthur quickly cast the same enlightening spell he had used to sneak in on his body, and leapt off the stair landing. He levitated for a brief moment before falling with practiced grace, his cloak and golden locks standing on end as he speedily rushed towards the ground. Arthur stretched his hands out and, what felt like so long ago, performed the ol' double takedown on two guards directly beneath him.

Arthur slammed the guards into the stone floor as he heavily landed. Kiku spun and swung his heel into the vulnerable belly of the nearest guard before striking his elbow against the face of another. Arthur leapt up and sprinted for the door as Kiku finished off the last guard by punching him in the Adam's apple. Before the guard even fell, Kiku easily caught up with him and the duo ran out the tower together.

"What happened?" Kiku loudly asked as they bounded towards the waiting airship. Aboard Ludwig signalled his men to prepare for a sudden takeoff as Arthur and Kiku drew nearer.

"I got found out. But I managed to destroy the broadcaster" Arthur yelled over the Gallon's stirring noises. Behind the fleeing Arthur and Kiku, the remaining guards had sprung the alarm and a hammering bell was repetitively being rung. The Gallon's engines sprang alive as Arthur and Kiku launched themselves over the metre gap, rolling to divert the impact as they landed on the wooden deck.

"Everyone to stations! Be prepared for oncoming attacks!" Ludwig commanded beside the helm, sending the crew dashing for their assigned posts. Arthur looked for Alfred to no avail as he ran to the wheel helm, Dominic stepped aside as Arthur took his place as pilot. With Ludwig standing as captain at his shoulder, Arthur grabbed his head set and hurriedly turned it on.

"Jonny! Do you read? We're leaving, follow along side and prepare for follow up gun fire" Arthur blunted into the microphone as he pushed the E.O.T handle from 'stand by' to 'slow'. The Gallon began to drift upwards and forward as Arthur steered it away from the chiming tower, on the ground the guards were preparing to pursue in their own small airships.

"This is Jonny, hearin' you loud and clear. Warning noted. We're right behind you, over" Jonny's staticky voice sounded from Arthur's headphones, the whistling winding nearly drowning out his speech. Arthur spun the wooden helm roughly ninety degrees right to pull the Gallon further away and pushed up the altitude lever to take them higher.

"We have pursuers coming up on our left Sir!" A rebel in the crows nest shouted down to Ludwig, his spy glass aimed back at the Tower where four small mobile airships had ascended and were racing after the rebel ships. Arthur pushed the brass E.O.T handle to 'half speed' and quickly glanced at the map to estimate how far away they were crossing into Capital Air space. Approximately another twenty miles before they would be over the Air space, Arthur noted thankfully. They could do it. The Gallon was built to withstand heavy damage and there wouldn't be any Capital ships to meet them. They would be fine.

"We have four attacking air ships men! Incoming on the starboard side, man the left guns and fire on command!" Ludwig yelled as he ran down to the deck and jumped onto one of the heavy artillery cannons. The rebel gunners followed their leader's example and braced themselves as a one of the attacking airship's machine guns opened fire onto the Gallon. The bullets peppered the side of the ship and clanged against the metal hull armour.

"Fire!" Ludwig boomed over the gun fire and the Gallon let loose its full might against the opposing airship. The cannon rocketed its explosive cannon balls with deafening claps of thunder, the smell of gunpowder populated the late evening air.

The enemy airship exploded with a well aimed shot and combusted into a great ball of flames. It's three brother ships pulled forward with sudden bursts of speed and pulled ahead of the Gallon, turning its machine guns back to fire backwards on the slower ship.

"If that's how you want to play," Arthur muttered to himself, he felt his heart beat wildly as the Capital could into view. The airships wouldn't follow them over into Capital Air Space for fear of their own lives, they wouldn't risk blowing off pieces of the warships and have them land on the city below. Crushing citizens and creating collateral damage for the Emperor to clean up. Arthur just had to get the ship over there as quickly as possible. With renewed determination Arthur pushed the engine to 'full speed', holding on tightly to the helm as the Gallon powerfully steamed ahead. The three mini airships began to fall behind as the Rebel ship passed by it, giving a generous amount of fire power as it flew by. Arthur grinned as the Gallon zoomed over ahead over the invisible boundary that marked the Capital Air Space, the three airships changed targets and attempted to aimed for other rebel ship as it followed closely on the Gallon's tail.

Both rebel ships soared safely over the Capital below, their great slanted shadows looming over the quietening city. Everyone on deck collectively relaxed as Ludwig waved the all clear. The wooden parts of the deck now had multiple lead bullets embedded into it. Arthur sighed in relief and pulled the E.O.T down to 'Slow', he felt everyone deserved a break. They should enjoy the safe time while they had the chance.

"Alright men. We need to use the borrowed time we have to reload and make any needed repairs. Arthur, let Dominic take over and get some rest. We're going to need you in prime shape later" Ludwig barked the last order over to Arthur as he released his cannon to be repaired. Arthur nodded and took off his headphones before handing them to Dominic, his copilot still refusing to meet his eyes. What is wrong with him?, Arthur thought irritatedly to himself as he made his way down to the deck and down more stairs into the confided cabin quarters.

The cabins of the Gallons were minimalist and contained only two bunk beds, though the rooms were so small there was barely a gap between each bed. A single oil lamp illuminated the cramped room as Arthur opened the door to his shared cabin and closed the door silently. The walls and floors were panelled wood and huddled in a corner were all the lodgers packs. On the top left bunk, Kiku was already dozing peacefully with his hands rested together on top of his chest. Arthur smiled at the irony of how this seemingly small napping man could easily take out three armed guards without batting a eye. No one would of believed it if they looked at Kiku's relaxed face, his lower lip pouting slightly out as he breathed in and out shallowly.

As quietly as he could with the ship's swaying motions, Arthur crept over to the bottom right bunk and took off his boots before he snuggled under the cool blankets. The pillow wasn't terribly comfortable and Arthur had to shift his position many times before he closed his eyes. He let out a huge yawn as he began to feel drowsy, his muscles sore and strained. After a few minutes, Arthur slipped over the edge of conciseness and delved into his vast Aqua mindscape. Completely unaware of unseen forces that watched him as he delved into a vision of a far away place.

* * *

OOOoohh. So this chapter was abit weird to write. We have about three destinations where I have to write Arthur travelling between them, which is actually quite hard while making sure it doesn't get repetitive.

So the thing that stuck out most to me in this chapter, Arthur's fight in the tower. Now I'd like to say, Arthur has killed in the past. When he was younger with his brothers, they would take down pirates, bandits and other evil supernatural creatures. Its clear why Arthur would feel sick with himself. Even though he did it in self defence, Arthur killed that man in the same way that he had destoryed the radio box. He had laughed with childish innocence, and to have it happen again in such a sickening way. It's pretty messed up. He literally smashed the guard into the side of a wall, crushing his skull. The death was ugly and twisted, and...unintentional.

Arthur didn't actually intend to kill the guard, but rather knock him out. So when he murders the guard, Arthur's freaking out. For a split second he did not have control over his magic. I'd liken the situation if you had a ballon of air and wanted to slowly release its contents. We all know how easy it is for the ballon to lose control and fly everywhere. That is essentially what happened to Arthur. Only add a thick layer of confusion on top of horror, Arthur doesn't understand how it happened. We fear things we do not understand.

As to what actually did happen, ha ha. We'll have to wait and see ;)

Things are beginning to move behind the scenes and lie in wait. Big things are coming for our heroes. Hold on to your butts.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are liking this story, then please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank for reading!

Until next time folks!


	4. Chapter 4 - A Vision of Winter

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 4! I am very sorry about the late update, school has been overbearing. In future I will try to write ahead and update with prewritten chapters :) Without further ado, we jump into Arthur's first (and not the last) vision.

Enjoy!

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Arthur's Mindscape, The North, Unknown

The Seer found him brooding outside beside the circle of frost covered rune stones. The man stood against the weak sun, the ever constant snowfall had decorated his clothes and auburn hair with small white flakes. His lips were chapped and his elder green eyes narrowed against the biting wind as he stared upon the southern horizon. His visitor sighed and padded carefully on the footpath leading up to his friend. The path's stones partly concealed by the fast falling snow. When the blind man reached the end of the path, the man didn't turn around but rather kept his eyes forward.

"Why do you feel?" The blind man asked as he paced over to his old friend, tugging his black weathered cloak tightly to his person. His friend's cold eyes briefly flicked over to him before returning to their original position, his brows drew together over them.

"In general or on what's ta come?," The blind man's friend spoke as bitterly as the winter winds edge. "Because if it be the latter, then the sun won't set fast enough" The blind man grimaced the cutting undertone in those words, a sharpness that didn't exist years before.

"Impatient as ever. You are aware that he will be arriving with the Rebel group" The blind man pressed cautiously, treading on thin ice. It was a topic that was often avoided. His friend was stubborn and would refuse to discuss it in depth.

"Aye I'm aware. He is still naïve as when he was a wee babe. Sometimes I get glimpses of him, but they are never clear. _**They**_ ," His friend snarled the word "are shielding him from ma sight"

"It won't matter when he's standing in front of us. With the alliance, we'll have the enough manpower to lay siege on the Winter Palace" The blind man replied optimistically with smile, feeling the flutter of hope inside his chest. The wind continued to howl and rush over the barren wintry wonderland, almost omen like.

"When he gets here, I'll taking him far away where no one will be able ta hurt us eve' again" The man gritted in his heavily accented voice as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Don't be a fool Allistor. It's wistful thinking that he'll agree. Not only that but the King and Ludwig would never allow it, they wouldn't let you deprive them of a single drop of magical blood. If you take Arthur away, you'll have three relentless forces pursuing you" The blind man snapped at the foolishness of Allistor's plan, the sheer ignorance of it.

"And would yours' truly be involved in this hunting party?" Allistor pushed with a raised eyebrow at the challenge his friend threatened him with.

"Allistor. When will you understand that this is so much bigger then you and I. You think you're saving your brother, but what about the people who need him? The King will need all of us there when we go south. We'll finally avenge our fallen kin" The Seer finished on a somber note, his quivering voice uttered through dry cracked lips. Allistor looked as though he wanted to argue and yet was conflicted between emotions of stubbornness and empathy. He always put on a hard front, but Allistor was not heartless and so empathy won his internal struggle.

'I to desire revenge old friend, for Seamus, Dylan and all the others. However you are the fool if you think I'll let ma family be taken from me again. Bastards like them, they're all same," Allistor spat with his lips pulled back over his teeth like an animal baring its fangs. "Ludwig, Ivan, _**Them**_. Bah! the list goes on and on! Hasn't he been through enough!? He's just a boy!," Allistor's voice trembled with rage before it cracked "He's just a boy…"

There was a profound moment of silence between those long time companions. The blind man saw without seeing, he didn't need eyes to perceive a bleeding man.

"I understand how you feel, old friend. All we can do is keep the ones we love safe to the best of our ability. But justice must be done or we are no better than those who do us wrong," He softly said to Allistor, placing a comforting hand on his cloaked shoulders, "I think we'll all learn something very valuable off one another. Especially Arthur. It'll be like the past time for you two, mentor and student reunited". Allistor looked to the place where his friend's eyes would be and gave a half hearted smile.

"I hope so, Lukas. I hope so." Allistor wistfully said before immediately dropping his short lived smile and resuming the family scowl. His face twisted in suspicion as he scanned the area for something unknown.

"We're being watched," Allistor stated firmly before gathering and focusing his magic. His friend bowed his head and searched with his own mind, finding no physical form for miles. A astral projection then, he concluded grimly. Though it should have been impossible with the warding stones. Allistor had finished concentrating his magic and bellowed a banishing spell of his own design.

"Uentis!"

* * *

The Gallon, Cabin Quarters, Cabin One.

"Arghh!" Arthur screamed as he jolted upright in his creaking bunk. His head collided with something hard causing Arthur to fall back onto his pillow, clutching his forehead in pain.

"Ow ow ow ow, ow. Dude! Okay, okay! I'll never try to draw on you again, Jeez!" Alfred's voice shrieked in a high pitch voice. Arthur winced as he rubbed his throbbing face, his vision came into focus on Alfred. It appeared that Alfred had previously been leaning over Arthur as he mumbled in his sleep, preparing to vandalise his face before Arthur had accidentally head butted him.

Arthur groaned and shook his head to try and clear his chaotic thoughts. He felt like he had been in a deep sleep, dreaming. But he couldn't for the life of him remember what he had been dreaming of. The rude awakening didn't help either.

"You absolute wanker Alfred! You were going to mess with my face while I slept? Some friend you are" Arthur scowled as he rose off his bed, ducking his head under to avoid the top bunk and pulling his boots on. Alfred stuck his tongue out and swaggered backwards towards the door, reaching behind he gripped the handle and tugged it open. Arthur rolled his eyes and followed Alfred out of their cabin onto the breezy deck.

Arthur took in a deep breath of the early dawn air, the new day sun's first rays peeking over the clouded horizon. There were a few grey snow clouds crawling across the low sky and the air was crisp and cold. Alfred loosened up his tense back muscles by stretching his muscular arms above his head as he wondered over to the ships' ledge.

Arthur shivered he leaned over to watch the city passing by below, the clouds above had started frosting the world with icy puffs.

"What were you dreaming about? You sounded like you were having a debate with yourself or something" Alfred asked to the Brit as he recalled the memory of Arthur's sleep gibberish. It seemed not matter what medicine Arthur took, it didn't do anything to cease his midnight mumbles.

"I don't know. I think it was somewhere cold though, really cold" Arthur replied scrunching up his face as he tried to remember what his dream had been about. All he could pull together was the fragmented memory of entering his mindscape. Everything else had kinda swum and dissolved into something he couldn't clearly remember.

"Cold places aren't going to be a uncommon thing anymore. Hey what's that?" Alfred pointed to a white graceful shape that was soaring towards the ship. Arthur laughed at the sight of his faithful owl magnificently glide and sink its powerful talons into the once smooth polished ledge. The owl's pure white angelic wings were perfect as per the usual and its Amber eyes closed in delight as Arthur scratched the sweet spot beneath its chin.

"And this must be Francis' reply" Arthur said to himself as he carefully uncoiled the folded parchment from around his owl's leg. Alfred had edged closer and was trying to get the Owl's attention, the owl refused to acknowledge Alfred's attempts and snipped at his intruding fingers. Arthur smiled bemused at the exchange before he turned his sights to Francis' letter, which looked like it had been crudely torn out of a diary or some kind.

 _'To my dearest Arthur,_

 _I write to you with haste. Your feathered friend wouldn't allow me to write at any other speed. I do not deny that the news your letter carried sat with ill feelings on my heart. I only wish that I was there by your side to express these feelings to your face. You won't need to worry about me, Antonio has allowed me to stay at his manor. I told him I would find some way to repay him however the old dog says my companionship is payment enough._

 _Arthur, I wish you had at least spoken to me before we had parted. But I suppose I cannot do much about it from miles away. Bet on your ridiculous eyebrows that you'll get the thrashing of your life when I see you again. On a more serious more note, Arthur I must tell you something I should of told you a long time._

 _For_ _you see, the truth is…'_

* * *

Evil cliffhanger is evil :) So a lot of revelations in this chapter, we not only see Allistor for the first time in forever. But we are also introduced to the blind seer Lukas (Norway) and one of the important locations in the North. I guess we finally know the owner of those sorcerer's eyes sold at the auction. Poor Lukas. We'll learn more about you in later chapters.

Translation: Uentis means 'Begone' in Latin. Simple yet effective for a banishing spell

Unlike most snowy owls, Arthur's owl is completely white with little to no black markings. Just a little fact for you all ;)

There was a lot of information in this chapter that lead up to so many more questions! What has Allistor been doing all this time while he has been in the Nordic Kingdom? What did he mean by **_They_** and why does he hate them so much?

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story and you want to see it continue, please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts,opinions and questions on it. They really mean the world and motivate me to post chapters at a fastest rate.

Until next time folks!


	5. Chapter 5 - Bloody Chamber

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 5! Woo so not only another chapter but also a prequel! Hetalia - Origins will be the prequel and a sort of companion guide to this series, it'll explain the lore and myth of how everything came to be. Unlike this main series, I plan to keep Origins relatively short. Not to mention I'm so planning my own murder mystery so update times may vary from now on. Worry not though! I will strive to deliver! Any who, enough about me. Onto the chapter!

Enjoy!

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The Capital, The Winter Palace's Highest Security Dungeon, The Entrance Corridor

Roderick Edelstein strode down the echoing corridor as he had done oh-so-many times before. The loud thumping sound of his booted footsteps hitting the concrete stone floors bounced back off the matching walls. The hollow corridor was lit by evenly spaced bare light bulbs and at either end, a industrial strength enforced steel door stood both maned by two elite guards. As Roderick neared the entrance to the prison levels, the two heavily armoured guards stepped aside and saluted as he passed them. Their concealed eyes behind their helmeted heads followed as he descended further into the lower depths of the dungeon levels.

The dungeons that Roderick was now walking into had not always been part of the Palace's underground structure. It had been constructed when Ivan had seized control of the throne and began his purge when he discovered that sorcerers required more then iron bars to be contained. It was found ironically, only magic could seal magic. And so after Ivan had broken his captives, he had forced them to carve layers upon layers of sealing runes into each manacle and every corner of every cell. The runes sapped the sorcerers of their strength and will, leaving them barely capable thought. Transformed into malleable living dolls, this was the fate of the cooperative sorcerers. Those who stubbornly held and retained their mental barriers against the reconditioning treatments were forced into what could be considered, solitary confinement.

The sorcerers who were subjected to this cruel punishment, were forced to stand at the centre of an imprisoning magic circle. When the circle was activated the victim would be levitated and cryogenically frozen inside a solid block of crystal. The crystal had life sustaining properties that kept its victim alive and conscious, but could be outwardly influenced to induce its captive with intense hallucinations designed to cause the mind to yield. The duration of the treatment was administrated in short but repetitive doses, for prolonged exposure had led past prisoners to irreversible madness. The Empire had learnt gravely from that mistake, Roderick thought to himself as he strode past the rows of barred cells. Each contained its own glassy eyed inmate that no longer had the prowess to even whimper as the man who had put them behind bars didn't spare a glance their way.

"Their ancestors must be rolling in their graves at the sorry state their race has fallen to" Roderick quietly mused as he finally came to the end corridor crossroad and turned left, to where the corridor opened up to his favourite place in the dungeon. The Reconditioning chamber.

The chamber was by far the largest room and was shaped like the inside of a dome. There were large cabinets displaying small vials of intoxicating drugs and sickly syringes. Opposite the cabinets there were a mixture of torture instruments laid out on a long table for intimation purposes. An electric generator stood directly behind the torture chair at the centre of the room, its thin electric wires connected to a poor unfortunate soul.

Roderick allowed a smirk to play onto his lips as he entered the chamber and saw who was already strapped down by leather cuffs at his waists and ankles in the chair.

Vlad Popescu clamped his jaws together to suppress his building agonised scream as he felt the horribly familiar burning sensation vibrate from the padded attached wires on his bare chest. The pain caused involuntary spasms that raked across Vlad's body as he tried to ride out the waves of electric current. There was an inaudible voice and with a short click the electricity was stopped, Vlad slumped forward as he released his jaw and panted heavy breaths to regain precious oxygen. Sweat clung to his brow and his thin rib cage heaved in and out as Vlad slowly raised his heavy head and cracked his blood shot eyes open.

"Hello Vladimir, it has been quite a time since we last spoke has it not?" Roderick asked as though they were sitting down having pleasant tea, not deep underground in a torture chamber. Vlad wetted his dry lips and swallowed in an attempt to soothe his raw throat, the past few hours of screaming had really done a number on it.

"Not long…enough" Vlad wheezed as he rested his head back against the high backed 'throne' and wearily watched Roderick examine him like a specimen under a microscope.

"Ah, but you wound me Vladimir. I thought we shared the unbreakable bond of companionship, you and I," Roderick replied as he clutched his heart in an exaggerated manner, pretending Vlad's words had actually landed a blow, "We're always worked as partners. Do you not remember seven years back during the Emperor's purge, when we were the perfect team. Capturing dangerous and unpredictable sorcerers like yourself and putting them safely away from harm. Weren't those the days?"

Vlad cringed as he remembered the gut wrenching memory of being forced to hunt down his own kind. Standing helpless as he saw his kin being dragged away in chains, crying and cursing at him for assisting in their capture. That memory was a favourite in solitary, replayed over and over again until Vlad felt emotionally numb and empty. Roderick was now finally getting to his point.

"Yes, yes those were the days. One particular mission stood out to me, you know. I'm sure you remember it quite clearly Vladimir. The mission to capture the noble Kirklands," Vlad's eyes snapped wide open as he stared at Commander Roderick with pending dread. Please, oh please do not let it be what he thought it was. "And I'm sure that you remember we only managed to successfully capture one Kirkland, correct? Well Vladimir I do believe a momentous opportunity has dropped into your lap. Be honoured, for I am in need of your tracking abilities once more"

Vlad shook his head in hopeless denial. He could see where this was going. He could see what Commander Roderick was building to. "I can't. I can't, I can't go through that again. I just can't" he whimpered as he thought of the crushing guilt he had felt upon looking down at Seamus Kirkland's corpse. They had never even spoken, and yet the act of betraying them had felt so much worse then the other sorcerers. The Kirklands had been respected, they had been admired for their vast knowledge and great power in the arts. They had never been directly involved in the Community, preferring to stick to themselves. But they had always offered their help to those who needed it, no matter how begrudgingly. It had been worse then sin to be the cause of their demise. Vlad cried out in shock as he felt his head snap left from the brutal backhand Roderick gave him. The right side of his face throbbed as Roderick took his hand away and stared him down.

"Do not make the unforgivable mistake of thinking you have a say in these proceedings Vladimir. You opinion counts for less then nothing in my eyes. Before I was rudely interrupted by your pathetic snivelling, I was explaining your target. One going by the name of Arthur Kirkland" Roderick stated, inwardly smiling as Vlad's pupils constricted with fear. Vlad began to shake his head more insistently as his breathing became shallower, borderlining hyperventilation.

"No, no. I can't. I did it once. I did it once. I can't. I cannot do it again! Don't make me do it again!" Vlad shrieked hysterically gaining him another slap, silencing him with another slap. Roderick closed the distance between them and wrapped his gloved hand around Vlad's quivering throat.

"Now listen here, you piece of filth. You. Do. Not. Have. A. Say. In. This. You are not even a person. Your mind and your body belongs to the Emperor and he will continue to use you like the good tools you are to win this war. You will serve under The Emperor's right hand. You will track down and acquire Arthur Kirkland in one piece. And you will present him before His Grace and pray with all your minimal worth that he approves enough to see you live another day," Roderick spat in acidic tones as he gripped Vlad's throat with crushing force before releasing him and pausing just before he left the chamber. "Commander Arlovskaya will come for you at midnight. The slightest show of resistance will lead to severe punishment"

Vlad watched traumatised as Roderick left the chamber, unable to completely process what he was going to be forced to do. Vlad tried to calm himself and think about the information he had been presented with. At least he would of, if the the electricity hadn't been turned back on. Fresh screams rippled throughout that bloody chamber.

* * *

Oh ho ho, Roderick. How can you be so loving in one scene and so brutal in the other? So yeah, some details on how the sorcereres are being contained. The inspiration of the solitary confinement came from watching an episode of the anime 'Blue Exorcist' (Which is a must read manga), I liked the idea of how they were completely frozen and I added the touch of the mental harassment because you know. Who doesn't like mental torture?

It's a shame that we are reintroduced to Vlad under painful circumstances. But you know what they say. Once the pain train starts rolling, it don't pull into the station (choo choo. Mothertruckeer). I'm really excited for upcoming chapters, I'm hyped for the action and drama to kickoff ;)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story then please take the time to leave a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading!

Until nex time!


	6. Chapter 6 - Arrival up North!

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 6 and woo has it been a long time! Unfortunately school is putting a lot on strain on my available time to write so chapters haven't been quite as frequent as desired but, we can't always get what we want. Just a quick note, I am also writing a prequel of this series called **Hetalia - Origins**. It details the creation and lore of the series and is a nice companion story to read alongside this. I won't say much but it's where the Ancients will be making their first appearance :3 And now I present the chapter,

Enjoy!

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Whale-Tail Island, The Resistance Headquarters, General Ludwig's Office.

"A thousand silver pieces?! Ha, Unlikely! Tell Mr Wang he'll have my unmentionables before we'll let ourselves be robbed blind" Gilbert yelled as he shot up out of Ludwig's leather chair, no his leather chair now, and slapped both hands against the desk. The reporting men jumped back in shock at the dramatically childish action. They were so used to their General Ludwig's serious 'lets-get-down-to-business' attitude that they were completely caught off guard.

It had been two days since Ludwig and company had left for the North. Two days and Gilbert still left like an imposter sitting in the chair that was his brother's. It wasn't because he was physically sitting in a chair that was not his. But rather it was the expectant foreign looks that all the men gave him, looks that seemed alien to him. Gilbert had had power in the past, he knew how to handle it. But this was different. It was borrowed respect that the men looked at Gilbert with. In their eyes, he hadn't earned anything. He was a king with an empty no longer! Today was the day Gilbert showed everyone what an awesome leader he was by securing the deal of the year. Lord Wang won't easily steal the coin from his pocket!

"Uh but Sir, might we reconsider Lord Wang's generous offer? He is after all, our only long term arms dealer. And truth be told, a thousand silver pieces is the usual down payment for this type of shipment" One of the shorter men stuttered, so what mystified at Gilbert's lack of understanding of economics. He had been personally tutored by General Beilschmidt hadn't he? How could he know so little about the trade of business?

"Look look. The awesome me knows how to handle deals okay. It's called bantering. You see first you-," Gilbert started before he was rudely interrupted.

"We know what bantering is, Sir. In fact we frequently practice it" The taller one stated bluntly beginning to grow tired of their temporary leader's shenanigans. Gilbert huffed in irritation and folded his arms. He had thought the idea of bantering the price lower would have been impressive as his first act as leader. It was meant to inspire the men and show that they could put their faith in him. Apparently this hadn't been the best way to go about it.

"Okay then. Uh- go tell Lord Wang then that we'll accept his gracious offer. And give him a fruit basket or something, a puppy if you have one. Actually if you find a puppy I want it instead. That will be all. You may go" Gilbert stated with a flourish of his hand to the door and shaking back down into the leather chair. His leather chair. After the two men saluted and left, Gilbert dropped his head into his hands and sighed wearily. He felt like a terrible leader, heck he must seem like the worst person to lead next to Ludwig! Ludwig always knew everything about military and business deals while Gilbert was a complete noob at it all. So caught up in his self pity, Gilbert didn't hear the quiet knock and the sound of the door open.

"I'm such a failure compared to my brother," Gil muttered into his hands, an audible gasp caused him to look up and see a surprised Feliciano, "Feliciano! Wh-what the hell are you doing here? Would it kill you to knock?" He stuttered as he quickly swiped his moist eyes, cheeks a light rose shade with embarrassment at being caught at a moment of weakness. Damn Italian.

"You think you're a failure?" Feliciano's unusually quiet voice asked to Gilbert, light brown eyes meeting red. Gilbert barked a half hearted laugh as he ran his fingers through and tussled his unnaturally white hair.

"How can I not be. I'm supposed to be filling in as a substitute for brother, and yet I'm not even good enough to stand in his shadow" Gilbert replied as he leaned back into the soft worn leather. There was an a definitive pause before Feliciano broke the silence.

"It's not fair to compare yourself to someone who has been doing this for years. You can't expect yourself to suddenly be the man everyone wants, not without experience and practice," Feliciano walked forward and placed his hand reassuringly on Gilbert's leg "I believe in you Gilbert. You can be a great leader, it's in your blood" Gilbert looked astounded at Feliciano's frankly honest speech. He had never known that Feliciano had such faith in him. He didn't think Feliciano thought much of him outside being Ludwig's brother.

Gilbert coughed to distract the Italian from his lightly blushing cheeks "Thank you Feliciano, it means a lot" Feliciano smiled that heartwarming smile of his that made Gilbert forget about the world and took his hand away. The place he had touched tingled as his touch lingered. Feliciano made to walk out the study before grinning one final time back at Gilbert and exited the spacious study. A smile played onto Gilbert's own lips as he thought of his most recent visitor, feeling not for the first time a wave of envy for his brother. He was so lucky to have Feliciano by his side. But for now Gilbert didn't have time to indulge in his own self pity.

He had work to do.

* * *

Rebel Airship 'The Gallon', Front Deck, 79 miles away and closing from the Nordic Kingdom.

Matthew found his brother sulking up in the crows nest, standing alone. Alfred was looking through his spyglass when Matthew had scrambled up the ladder to join him, giving him a quick glance before resuming his watch. Matthew steadied himself as he found his centre of balance and took his place beside his sulking twin. The chilly air was thin at the altitude the Gallon was flying at and wisps of cloud drifted past Matthew's face as he too observed the magnificent view. The wintery Island's boundary was peeking into sight through the misty fog and the thousand year enormous ice wall that guarded its kingdom stood ever impressively. Many bombardment cannons were built in and on top of the wall, prepared for southern unwelcome warships. Alfred could probably see a great deal more then he could, but Matthew was sure that if he squinted he could make out the silhouettes of little men.

"We'll be there in less then half an hour at this speed" Alfred stated cooly, not lowering his spyglass an inch. Matthew sighed at his brother's off mood, something had clearly put Alfred in a foul mood.

"So what's wrong with you? You're acting like someone threw up in your sock" Matthew remarked in response, leaning forward against the wooden ledge. Alfred stayed silent for a minute before making an impatient noise and snapped his telescope close.

"Arthur's been acting like a jerk ever since he went crazy over this letter he got from Francis. I mean he literally caused the letter to explode into a fireball with his mind, it was insane! Then he got pissed at me so I've just been chilling up here" Alfred said with clenched teeth.

"Whatever was in that letter must have been pretty bad, Arthur's usually quite level headed," Matthew reasoned in defence, knowing that his friend wasn't one to needlessly yell at Alfred "Maybe he just needs some space. He'll apologise in his own time I'm sure"

Alfred nodded his gratitude for the reassurance and slapped the ledge excitedly as the Nordic Kingdom was now fast approaching and close enough that little houses could be seen under the dim lightly snowing clouds. Below Ludwig called to stations and to prepare to land. Matthew peeked over the ledge to see the Great Wall pass below them, grinning at Alfred enthusiastic waving to the guards at their posts.

The Gallon and its sister ship slowly dropped in altitude once they were completely inside, descending on a cleared landing platform. Men in brightly dyed winter coats waved the Gallon down and hurriedly rushed to secure the levitating war ships with thick ropes and chains. Alfred and Matthew slid down the crow's nest ladder and landed heavily on the busy deck as a wide set of metal stairs was pushed up against the side, the northern men already boarding to assist in unloading of the cargo. The air was alive with the sound of thumping boots, shouts of welcome from native observers and calls of command from those in charge. Sprinkling flakes continued to drift from above and nestle in the men's hair, nipping at their cold noses and drawing out sniffles and sneezes. The North had welcomed the Rebels into her wonderland.

Alfred was about to leap off onto the metal stairs when he felt a tug on his coat covered elbow. Arthur stood behind him with blushed cheeks and his head bowed in shame. Clumped puffs of snow clung to his messy blonde hair and thick eyebrows. The raging temper he had shown before had evaporated and was now gone with the wind. "I apologise Alfred. I was out of line before, you didn't deserve that when you've been so good to me" Arthur meekly spoke as he lifted his head to look Alfred in the eye, his own begging for forgiveness. Alfred let out a happy chuckle before responding warmly.

"It's okay dude. I get that you weren't in the best of moods, I shouldn't of pressed you. Are we cool?"

"We're cool" Arthur replied feeling the weight of guilt lift from his shoulders. He knew he had been unfair to Alfred and really didn't want things to be awkward between them, especially when he was one of the only people he felt safe with. Alfred's eyes seemed to visibly lightened as their dispute resolved, the spring returned to his step as he turned with Arthur to collect their effects in their cabin. The harsh weather not quite so cold as it was before.

* * *

Awww everyone's a happy bunny again. Soooo we presently don't know what's in Francis' letter, only Arthur's reaction to it. Interesstttiinnnggg I wonder what was in it? ;) Although we didn't get to see the whole argument, it was put in more to illustrate that no ones perfect and we all say things we regret later on. Sometimes we have to be the bigger person and admit we were wrong.

Regarding Gilbert's section, I felt that we needed to have a little check up on how he was doing. Apparently not as well as we would happily believe. Feliciano's there though to help him through it, what a nice guy.

 **Once again a quick reminder that I am writing a prequel to this series called Hetalia - Origins that details the lore and myth of the story, exploring stories and elements that will resurface in this present timeline. It'd really mean a lot if you could give it a little look and tell me what you think of it so far, I always appreciate the feedback.**

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. We really are starting to move again and we're drawing closer to anticipated reunions, both good and bad ;) If you are enjoying this story and would like to see it continue, please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. I love hearing from you and it's you who motive me to keeping posting. Once again thank you for reading.**

 **Until next time folks!**


	7. Chapter 7 - You're Here

Hetalia – Of Magic and Might

Chapter 7! Woo, I don't even have much to say. I'll just want to leave you the chapter, so I present you it here,

Enjoy!

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, Reception Hall of Royal Palace

The North was an eternally cold place. Ruled more by its harsh elements then its nobility, the winter folk had short days and long nights as they stood above the world. And while it did indeed stand on top, the North in the past hadn't escaped from Emperor Ivan's cruel tyranny. It had been the same year Ivan had seized the throne when he had invited the Northern King Magnus Densen to the Winter Palace, under the guise of a treaty proposal. Eager to affirm his country's safety, King Magnus had travelled along with his beloved queen south to the Capital. Leaving the care of the Kingdom and their only son in the trustworthy hands of an old friend, Berwald Oxenstierna. The Royal Couple had left to secure their peace, but they were never to see their son again.

Ivan had never even intended to hear their terms, choosing to have their throats slit the moment they stepped inside his bloody board room. Knowing that the North would be vulnerable without their monarchs, Ivan sent a powerful legion of warships to conquer the Nordic Kingdom while it seized up in disarray. But the Emperor had underestimated the hearts of the Northerns. Under its temporary ruler the whole North rallied and pushed back the southern invaders, managing to divide Ivan's Air Force by near half. Knowing better then fight a fruitless battle, Ivan called off the invasion and instead worked to cut off communication between them and neighbouring countries. Effectively isolating the Nordic Kingdom from the rest of the Isles.

But the long silence that the North had be submitted to had finally been broken with the arrival of the Rebels. As the Ludwig's company had been hurriedly escorted through the town to the Palace, inquisitive natives had strained for a glance at the outsiders from an alien world to their own. The Palaces's reception hall had welcomed the rebels with blazing fires and hot broths upon their arrival, the rebels nodding their thanks and inhaling the steaming fumes gratefully. It was just after that Arthur had finished his cup when a stout uniformed man had entered through the doors to the Grand Hall, breathing heavily from the exercise.

"Ahem! His majesty King Simon Magnus Christensen Densen of the North graciously welcomes you to his Kingdom and will now graciously take up audience with you. Please proceed into the Great Hall and present yourselves before His Grace" The balding man bellowed with a surprisingly loud voice for one of his small stature. Ludwig straightened his black cloak and motioned for Arthur to join him at the lead of the charge, placing him on his left while Kiku occupied his right. Alfred and Matthew gave Arthur an encouraging thumbs up as he reluctantly left them standing with Jonny and the rest of the men.

"Remain calm, and speak only when spoken to. First impressions amount to everything with royalty. And Arthur," Ludwig whispered to Kiku and Arthur under the noise of the rest of the rebels forming a rough line behind them "everyone in there who are going to be curious about you. But there's someone in there I think particularly wants to meet you, try to stay close to them at all times" Arthur nodded and thickly gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat as the Great Hall Ironwood doors slowly opened.

The Great Hall was towering and made of stone with small chandeliers hanging from wooden support beams. The polished boarded floor was crowded with muttering furred clothed men and women of varying age and appearance. Large fabric banners hung from the ceiling proudly bearing the crest of the Royal House. At the back of the hall a platform stood with a set of stairs the same width of the wide room. A magnificent Elder-wood Throne with intricate carvings of leaves and trees was centre of said platform, upon it sat the man who could only be King.

King Simon Magnus Christensen Densen of the North was a rather young man full of youth and spirit. His wild short blonde hair stuck up skyward and his clear aquamarine eyes danced as they watched the approaching Rebels. He wore no crown but a black and red furred coat with two silver badges pinned above his left breast. By his right hand stood a tall stern man who was legendary hero that stopped the invasion of the North, Berwald Oxenstierna. His posture was tense and rigid as his ivory green eyes flicked behind thin rimmed glasses. On the King's left stood perhaps the oddest person in all the room and for Arthur, the most familiar for unbeknownst to him Arthur had already seen him in a dream. The fair skinned man had long wavy ash blonde hair that had an independent swirl and spot floating beside it. He was robed in a dark navy cloak and had a black strip of cloth wrapped around his head, indicting that he was blind. Curiously Arthur saw what looked like a tiny troll like creature perched on the man's shoulder clinging to the end of his hair. No one seemed to be reacting to this at all so Arthur, with relief and wonder, realised that it was his Sight that allowed him to perceive it. He hadn't lost his gift after all those years of privation from magic, there just hadn't been any magic to see. Arthur's questioning thoughts on why that man had a troll following him around was interrupted when the King stood up and raised his hand for silence.

"My warmest greetings my most favoured guests. I King Simon Densen of the North welcome you to my Kingdom and hope you accept our earnest hospitality. I trust your journey here was smooth?" The King asked in an obviously rehearsed manner, his glowing appearance contradicting the formal words on his lips. Ludwig bowed deeply causing all his men to follow suit, before rising and addressing the King in a respectful tone.

"Thank you Your Majesty for allowing us into your home. You are most gracious and generous host. Our journey was uneven to begin with, however we managed to pass over the Capital without much ado. Though our ships still harbour battle scars and must be restocked and refuelled before they are ready for flight again" Ludwig explained to the King, though it was his right hand that nodded and seemed to make a mental note of the situation. He reminded him of himself in all honesty, Ludwig had thought in silence as the King spoke up in reply.

"My men will see you your ships, worry not. Now before we speak further, I have prepared a feast in honour of your arrival. I suggest we fill our bellies before we begin a discussion that will take half a day and longer! Come my guests, let us all travel to the dining hall where a mighty feast is waiting for us!" The King exclaimed to the applause of all occupants in the hall. Slowly both rebels and the Court Ladies and Sirs filtered out of the room, leaving Ludwig, Kiku and Arthur alone with the King, Sir Berwald and the unnamed blind man. Now the nosey nobility was gone the King dropped his overly royal persona and leapt off his throne to grasp Ludwig's hand and pumped it up and down furiously.

"I'm so happy you made it! I was starting to get worried you wouldn't make it. I'm hardly used to waiting being King and all" The King grinned widely as his attendees walked casually to his side.

"I can imagine. It is good to see you again Your Majesty, you've grown so much since I last saw you with Magnus. You've become quite the fine King" Ludwig politely replied though his voice held tones of softness and nostalgia as he described the past times.

"Now now Ludwig no need to be so formal, we're friends aren't we? Please call me by my first name when we are in private. All this posh snottiness really gets to my head. Ah, aren't you going to introduce to your men?" The King asked excitedly looking between Kiku and Arthur, Kiku had his head bowed deeply but Arthur didn't see the need to bow a second time.

"How rude of me. This is Kiku Honda, my right hand while we stay here. He is a gifted logical thinker to whom I trust deeply. He has served near eight years in our cause and has never failed a mission I have assigned him," Ludwig introduced indicting to Kiku who looked down embarrassed that the generous compliments and drawn attention. Ludwig continued and this time motioned to Arthur. "This is Arthur Kirkland, the sorcerer I wrote to you about" the King gasped in delight and reached forward to shake Arthur's hand in the same manner he had shook Ludwig's.

"It truly is incredible see that another sorcerer survive Emperor Ivan's Purge. I thanked the Gods when Ludwig informed me that he had found you. I thought that were would be only two left in the world" The King chattered unaware of how still his words had made Arthur. Another? Two left? Could he mean there were two sorcerers here in the North? The blind man with the troll on his shoulder stepped forward and reached towards Arthur, gripping him gently on the shoulders.

"You are Arthur?," The man asked, his voice low like a whisper. Not knowing how to respond, Arthur simply nodded with enough force that the man could sense it. "I am Lukas Bondevik and I to am a sorcerer that escaped from the Emperor. Although not completely unscratched" He said motioning to where his eyes should have been. Inside Arthur's emotions were rioting. He was not alone anymore, he wasn't the last of his kind. There was another like him and they were together. Ivan hadn't swiped out the sorcerers!

"H-hello Lukas. I, I have so many questions to ask you. I don't know even to begin!" Arthur cried as he returned Lukas' friendly grip, feeling a rush of companionship for this man he had never met. They were survivors and that instantly bound them together. Arthur was about to continue when Lukas placed a thin finger on his lips.

"I can imagine you have a whole list, but someone else you need to meet before we speak further." As Lukas spoke a set of echoing footprints approached the gathered men, drawing nearer and nearer behind Arthur. "He came to us roughly six years ago, around the time you went into hiding. We're been up here hiding to, sheltered by His Majesty away from the Empire. We're both waited for you for so long. We waited and waited. It's been unbearable on both of us, hasn't it… Allistor?"

They say when a person goes into shock, time appears to slow right down for that person. The world moves in slow motion as all thoughts leave the mind. The planet stops moving and in that suspended moment, the person can't understand the information they have learnt. They literally freeze. This is what happened to Arthur. His mind stopped for what seemed like an eternity as he slowly turned around and saw him. A man who looked like his brother. The same messy auburn hair. The same Greek Fire eyes crowned with thick eyebrows. There were differences, but none that Arthur cared about in that moment.

Stumbling like a baby taking its first steps Arthur took a step towards his brother, he didn't register the twin trails of tears that had spilled down his own bloodless face. Arthur took another step. And another. Unblinking he reached his hand out, afraid the image before him was but a phantom. That if he disturbed it then it would leave him forever. Allistor felt his own eyes moisten as he to reached out and brought Arthur's hand to his chest, so his brother could feel the steady pulse of his heart. Beneath his palm Arthur felt the undeniable beating of a healthy heart. A confirmation that his brother, his brother who was thought to be dead was alive.

Arthur's fingers tightened above Allistor's heart, scrunching the coarse fabric tightly. He gave out a pitiful sob and flung himself at full force at his brother, openly bawling as he desperately clung to him. Allistor temporally rocked backwards from the force his brother pushed him at before returning the suffocating grip. Tears now freely streamed down Allistor's face as he embraced his younger brother with enough strength they could of fused together. Arthur continued to hiccup and wail and sob into Allistor's shoulder, his tears soaking the dark green material all the way through. It was just them in the room, in the world. No one else mattered as the crushing pressure between the two brothers reassured them that it wasn't a dream. That they were really together, they were still alive and with each other.

Keeping his eyes closed Allistor's hand reached up and, like so long ago, ran it through Arthur's blonde locks with the tenderness of a mother. Arthur's shoulders tugged up and down as he howled and shook, feeling Allistor pull his head closer and rest under his chin.

"There, there Artie. We're home"

* * *

I'm not crying, I'm not crying :') I waited so long to write this scene. The reunion of Allistor and Arthur. It's been too long. This chapter, soo full of happenings. Introductions of setting and characters! Drama! There's so much!

We're really getting to the meat now. I am so excited for it all, these upcoming chapters are going to be 'fun'. There's not much else to say, the chapter was one of my better ones in my opinion and I was happy with how it came out.

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are enjoying this story and wish to see it continue, please take the time to leave a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions about the story. Once again thank you for reading and as always,**

 **untill next time folks!**


	8. Chapter 8 - Let's Go

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 8! Woohoo! Arthur and Allistor reunited, let's do this

Enjoy!

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, The Great Hall

Arthur was here. Arthur was _here_. In his arms. Safe. Allistor run his other shaking hand that wasn't cradling Arthur's head down his face, swiping away his own dual mini waterfalls. His attention was brought back to the grand room when the one called Berwald cleared his throat to break the emotional atmosphere.

"We'll leave you two alone to talk. Please rejoin all of us at the feast when you are ready" Berwald continued as he held out his straight arm in invitation for everyone else to follow him out of the hall. Allistor watched the men leave, not allowing himself to relax until they were not of ear shot. Exhaling deeply Allistor gently pulled away so he could see Arthur's streaming face, as red as when he was a bawling babe. Allistor raised both of his hands so that they caressed his brother's face before stretching his thumb across and wiping away one of his tear trails.

"Arthur," Allistor spoke in a cracked voice, smiling for what felt like the first time in forever, "Ye've grown so much" Arthur shakily shook his head and inhaled hungrily for breath as though he had forgotten how.

"Allistor. You're here, how are you here?" Arthur tried to say but only managed a weak stutter and whimper. Allistor lightly laughed and pressed their foreheads together in an endearing custom their father had taught Allistor, it had become a so-what hug between the Kirklands. He took a deep breath in and, knowing that he shouldn't, slowly lowered his heavily fortified mental defences. Expanding his consciousness Allistor stretched forward and gently rubbed his mind against Arthur's. His brother's eyes widened as he felt Allistor's presence push against his barriers and allowed them melt away, completely opening himself.

The two brothers minds embraced at other. Thought, memory, emotion seamlessly streamed and blended between them. The pain of loss, the joy of reunion. The crater that formed day they separated felt like a mighty torrent of security gushed into it, refilling that horrible hollowness. Their consciousnesses lapped against each other as calm ocean waves would, separate and yet together. Allistor took in Arthur's thoughts just as Arthur took in his, feeling the staggering love felt Arthur for him as they stood together in each other's arms.

The longer Allistor remained joined, the more he began to worry. It was still there. That obscure presence that had been with Arthur since his birth. The resistant unmovable glob that resided in Arthur's mind, stuck to the edge of it like a barnacle to a ship. Foreign like a stone against the current of Arthur's thoughts. Even when all the great minds of the Kirklands had worked to crack its quiet mystery, it had lingered beyond the outskirts of understanding. It unnerved Allistor. It gave him the same awful vertigo one would have looking down from a great height. And it definitely shouldn't of felt like it radiated cold malice directly at him.

Allistor quickly pulled out of Arthur's mind before he can feel the confusion and fear directed towards him. He and Arthur had just been reunited, Allistor didn't want to ruin the moment he had spent years waiting for. Arthur looked up at with scrunched up eyes at his brother as he retracted his mind and resumed his steady barriers. Nodding that nothing was wrong Allistor pulled away and lightly slapped Arthur on the perky cheek, drawing a childish giggle from him. Looking to the open gigantic doors and remembering that there was the feast that the King wanted them to attend. And well, who were they to disappoint a King?

Allistor stepped back and began walking out of the dining hall, Arthur walking quickly to match his brother's fast pace "C'mon laddie. Everyone's expecting us to feast and forget we aren't at war for the night. Let's go drink and be merry"

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace's Highest Security Dungeon, Chamber Three

 ** _Thud_**!

The loud slamming sound abruptly woke Vlad from his fitful sleep. Terribly disoriented and dazed, Vlad lifted his pounding head up from his usually bound arms and blinked away the sleep from his misted vision. He was in a plain room resting on a square table that was covered by a large map of the Isles. Unfortunately he wasn't alone in that small room.

Natasha Arlovskaya stood leaning over the Map table, bearing a wolffish grin as she looked down at the previously sleeping Vlad. Her silken blonde hair was slicked into a neat ponytail and she wore her buttoned navy coat with perfection. There was nothing to disguise her ice blue predatory eyes though. Vlad bolted upright and threw himself back against the chair in an effort to put more distance between them. Natasha flashed her flawless teeth again and slid forward a small wooden box which had been the source of the previous slamming noise. Vlad looked from the box to the Emperor's sister in confusion for an explanation, already feeling the cold fingers of fear creep up his spine.

"Commander Edelstein has already informed you of our target Vlad. We know who Arthur Kirkland is, now we need to know where he is. This is the first step of your… Cooperation," Natasha purred as she crossed her arms over her chest and motioned to the map in front of her. Methodical as always. "You will perform a tracking spell using this map with this sample of hair we collected from the Kirkland residence" Natasha commanded as she leaned forward and flicked open the box she had presented, a small fine clump of golden hair resting at the centre. Vlad cringed but knew better then to put up resistance and earn himself a black eye. Sighing in defeat Vlad rose from his wooden chair before he scooped up the hair and gripped it tightly. Bringing it close to his mouth, Vlad began to whisper into it the words of a tracking spell.

The instant Vlad finished his rapid rhythm of quiet chanting, the piece of Arthur he held instantly lit alight into a brilliant white flame. Like he had been stung, Vlad dropped the flame onto the map and watched as it took hold and spread. The leaping flame seized the thin piece of parchment before it began to die down, reducing the map's surface as it drew back in on its self. All that was left as a an egg shaped piece of map that showed only the North, the Nordic Kingdom.

Natasha released her pent up breath and placed her leathered hands on her hips.

"He's North. He could be hiding out or he could be with the Rebels. Either way the most likely place he could be is in the Nordic Kingdom, where he'd have access to civilisation. In the worst possible scenario he'll be hiding with the Rebels under the protection of the Northern King. Which means extraction may get nasty if the King refuses cooperation, a fleet of warships large enough to intimate them into giving us parlay will be needed" Natasha spoke to herself as she wove together her scheme. The journey would be but a day and a half in their latest ship model and five ships would carry fifty of her men. Natasha smiled as the plan sewed itself together. She would take much delight in recounting it to her brother later. It was the heavy breathing of her prisoner that drew her back to the cell. Vlad was painfully clutching his burnt fingers to his chest as he struggled to regain his breath, the spell he had performed had taken a heavy toll of his strength.

"Guards!," Natasha barked with immediate reaction from the men posted outside the door "Take the prisoner to a bare cell and see that he has plenty of food and water tonight. In the morning have him ready for travel and bring him to me in the ship yard" Natasha ordered to the guards and folding her arms behind her as the guards hauled Vlad to his clumsy feet. She smiled that wolf smile of hers again at Vlad as he passed her with his head bowed in shame.

"Rejoice Vlad. You are performing the highest honour for your Emperor. Hold your head up in pride"

* * *

Hoo Hoo. Natasha, get your coat. We're going North :) So this chapter was fun to write, mainly because I throughly enjoy writing from Allistor's point of view. He's such a grizzly bear. And there's that thing going in with Arthur, hmmmmm *wink wink*. Not much else to say really so I'll leave it here.

 **BUT WAIT! IS THAT A PREWRITTEN CHAPTER I SEE? Yes people! I have the next chapter written and willing to release if THREE Reviews are posted! That's right, THREE! So please leave a review and I'll post the chapter the moment that final review comes in, because you...are it worth ;)**

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story and want to see it long continue, then please consider leaving a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions. They mean the world to an aspiring writer. Once again thank you for reading,

Until next time folks!


	9. Chapter 9 - The First Feast

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 9 party people! This new chapter is courtesy of the brilliant reviewers; piratespain13, gxgirl-93 and BlazeToucan, without whom this chapter would not be coming to you this early. A big shout out to you three, thank you for your reviews. Now put on your party hats, it's time...

Enjoy!

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Dining Hall

 _Ooh! When I was one_

 _I sucked my thumb_

 _The day I went to sea!_

 _I jumped on board_

 _the pirate ship_

 _an' the Captain_

 _said to me,_

 _'We're goin'_

 _this way that way_

 _forwards, backwards_

 _over the Irish sea!_

 _A bottle o' Rum_

 _To fill ma tum,_

 _An' THAT'S the life_

 _For me!_

The huge crowded hall roared with bubbling laughter and applause as the song finished it's first version, sloshing pints of beer were thrusted to the roof in celebration. At the head of the long feast table sat King Simon surrounded by his most favoured men, along with General Ludwig and his own company. Arthur Kirkland sat between his brother and Lukas, where the three of them had been vividly discussing many a matter on the subject of magic. The latest topic had been whether toad spawn or frog spawn was a better ingredient when making a potent sleeping draught. Opposite the engrossed sorcerers Alfred, Kiku and Matthew sat, Alfred shooting frequent glances over to the Kirkland Brothers.

The black and red banners that hung from the wooden beamed ceiling proudly bore the signal of the Densen house, a double edged battle axe. Upon the fine table, a glorious feast laid spread. Whole spiced and salted hogs lay on its vegetable garnished platters along with piping cauldrons of creamed tomato soup and tender stewed venison. Spit roasted honeyed and stuffed chickens glistened in the flickering candle light and finely aged cheeses with nutty wholemeal bread rolls doted along the table. Golden puffy beef pies and huge wooden bowls of sweet apples and red and green grapes were passed up, down and across from one man to another. The Magician's band played its upbeat songs and a merry man's ale of beer was never empty.

 _OOOoohh! when I was two_

 _I ate my shoe.._

Arthur laughed as the ridiculous song continued, the beer making him bold and light headed. At the head of the table King Simon had corked open one of his oldest wines and was sharing it secretly between him, Berwald and Ludwig. Beside Arthur, Allistor took another deep swig at his mug and slammed it back down with little care of its split liquor on the table.

"Hey Artie," Allistor spoke as he leaned to whisper in Arthur's ear, his breath overpoweringly stinking of his beer. "I think that blonde over there wants ye attention. He's been starin' at ye like ya the love of his life" Arthur looked over to Alfred and saw that Alfred had indeed been trying to get his attention. Once he and Alfred made eye contact, Alfred dropped the apple he had been about to throw and sheepishly grinned.

"Introduce me to your brother!" Alfred mouthed from across the table, Matthew stretching over him to grab a roll and dunk it in the tomato soup. Arthur rolled his eyes and elbowed Allistor's side gently and pointed over to Alfred.

"That is Alfred Jones. He helped me and a friend leave the Capital and introduced me to the Rebellion" Arthur stated, feeling a little concerned when his brother's eyes narrowed that the word 'introduced'. Allistor turned his piercing stare onto Alfred and peered at him, as if trying to gauge what he was made of.

"So ye the one who's dragged ma little brother into this? Couldn't leave him be, where he was safe?" Allistor aggressively spat as he leaned forward on the table, steeling his Greek Fire eyes onto Alfred. Alfred automatically squirmed under Allistor's glare however no matter how intimidating Allistor, Alfred would be damned if he showed that he was scared.

"Yeah, I helped Arthur and Francis out of the Capital and was there with him when he joined up. And there when we brought him here, so in a way. I'm the reason Arthur's here drinking besides you" Alfred finished with a smug smile. Allistor paused for a split second before he grinned at the challenge and nodded his head pleased.

"He's got spunk. Good. I wouldn't be able to stand ye if ye were squealed at the sight of a challenge" Allistor declared with a wink before returning to his drink. Inwardly Alfred sighed in relief and relaxed as he had Allistor's favour before putting his question forward.

"So tell what's being a sorcerer like? I know there was a community, but what did you guys actually do? " Alfred asked as he speared a chicken leg with his knife and took a huge bite into the plump meat. Arthur popped a grape into his mouth as he listened to what Allistor had to say for himself. His brother pressed his lips together in thought and scratched his spouting auburn whiskers in thought.

"Well we were Healers, Seers, Adventurers and Scholars. It was a free life, to go where you wanted when you wanted to. You would train your magic, find work and live off what ye made," Allistor reminisced, his expression matching Arthur's longing one as they thought of the past times. "Some of us specialised in selling charms and some became fortune tellers. But for us, we were hunters. Dealing with the wee things that went bump in the night. Ghosts, Rowdy Trolls, Witches, if you can name it we're probably dealt with it"

"We would travel around where rumoured bad omens had sprung up and hunt whatever was causing it," Arthur eagerly butted in. "Once we tracked a coven of witches and almost had our limbs eaten if Seamus hadn't challenged the witches to a limerick competition"

"Aye. The look on their faces when Seamus pulled out tha' word 'Orange'?. Priceless. But jokes aside, t'was a dangerous job that not many could do. If you didn't have the training, ya didn't stand a chance. The Old man grilled it into as soon as I could walk on ma feet, the bloody training was worse then actually fighting tha' monsters," Allistor looked to Arthur as he said his last bit. "He wanted me to be able to look after ya before he…left"

Arthur and Allistor's eyes darkened visibly at the mention of their absent father. Alfred looked between them and gleamed that something obviously went down. A sensitive soul might of left the topic, but Alfred had never been a wuss."So why did he leave?" He pressed, ignoring Matthew's (who had begun to listen in) silent disappointed sighs.

"What are we flimsy girls gossipin' about our daddy issues?," Allistor snorted irritatedly but didn't stop when he saw the glint in Arthur's eye. Arthur had never truly known their father and to desired answers as Allistor did. "He never told me where he was going the night he left. I was nine and Arthur was three. He just came, grabbed his effects and told me he had something important to take care of... I begged him to stay, used every card; You, Seamus and Dylan were too young to leave alone. We had name in the community, a reputation. We had enemies from the hunting business" Allistor paused with smouldering acidic eyes. "He still didn't stay"

There was an odd solemn silence that bound the four men amongst the celebrating feast. Arthur stared down at his plate and found his appetite had fled. He had only hazy scratches of memory about their father, nothing solid or tangible at all "Did you ever know my mother Allistor?" Arthur asked in a quiet half-hearted voice, already knowing the answer but still feeling inclined to ask.

"Never meet her lad. One day the Old man simply brought you home from a trip, a trip from here actually. Me Ma had a right fit when she saw you-" Allistor told before being interrupted by Alfred's loud gasp.

"You two are half brothers?!" Arthur rolled his eyes and simply pointed to Allistor's auburn hair and then to his own golden mess. There wasn't much need for more information after the obvious was pointed out.

"Aye we're half brothers. And ye be the only clue to what ya Ma could of looked like. She must have been beautiful because ya look about as dainty as I don't know what," Allistor teased causing Arthur to retaliate by aiming a punch at his head. Allistor chuckled as he easily dodged Arthur's fist and turned his attention to the twins in front of him "So you know wee part of our story, why don't you tell us yours? How did you end up joining the Rebellion?"

Matthew and Alfred exchanged a glance and Matthew gave a light nod at the unspoken question between them. Alfred's demeanour grew serious as he lost the cheerful twinkle in his eye, to have it replaced by dull remorse. "We grew on a small Isle named 'Potts Field' with our parents who were just honest corn farmers. It was when we were thirteen that Ivan came to the Isle, looking to buy it and convert it into a factory. Our parents refused but no wasn't an answer. The farm was burnt to the ground and we were left orphans. About a week later Ludwig came to visit the Isle, looking to recruit sympathisers. He was quite surprised to find two teenage boys were the first to sign his list. So we were brought back to the base, trained to fight and command. We rose to be in Ludwig's inner circle and have been ever since" Alfred finished, speaking with a somewhat detached voice. Like he had wept too many tears over the past that he was spent of emotions tied to it. Arthur looked across to his dearest friend and meet his eyes, realising that they were more alike then they had previously known.

"We've all been hurt by the Empire in someway. It's only a matter of time before Ivan is brought to justice" Arthur firmly proclaimed, his fists curled tightly like his resolve. Matthew nodded and raised his drink to that, probing the other three men likewise. They shared a determined look before cluttering their pints together and toasted for a better tomorrow.

* * *

Awww so now we all know alittle abit more about our heroes :3 The song that the beginning of the chapter is a song I used to sing in primary school, it'd get more and more silly as it went on (e.g when I was five, I sat on a bee hive) It was a cute little song that I thought suited the mood nicely so it was put in.

Hee hee the little head butting heads of Allistor and Alfred. Allistor is a _very_ intimidating man and even badasses like Ludwig feel the power Allistor's presence has. None the less, Alfred ain't afraid of no ghost and he is not a coward. I feel that Allistor and Alfred will get on quite well in the future, although their codes of honour differ in ways ;)

Lovely bits of backstory on the Sorcerers and their way of life. There's no school their sent to, they have to study off their own backs or find themselves a Master and be taught from them. We'll be seeing abit more on this later. Also we finally learn how Alfred and Matthew joined up with Ludwig and essentially became child soldiers, which isn't a happy thought.

I am so thankful for all the reviews that have been submitted so far. Your enthusiasm to see what happens next is what's really driving this story.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are enjoying this story and want to see chapters be updated more regularly then please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading,

Until next time folks!


	10. Chapter 10 - From the Past

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 10! And we are into double digits baby! So I am sorry for the late updates, this week has been rather busy but what can you do? So this chapter was interesting to write, a major plot point is revealed with a new layer to add to the mystery *wink wink* And so,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace, High Security Dungeons

Vlad Popscu grunted in pain as he was roughly thrown into the warded prison cell, landing on his arm at an awkward angle. The steel barred door was slammed shut and without a word the ever silent guards left, marching down the multi celled corridor. Vlad pushed himself shakily up right and shifted backwards so his back touched the freezing concrete wall.

"Another fine mess" Vlad moaned to himself as he cradled his injured arm, already feeling the lull draining sensation of his magic leaving him. His essence forcefully pulled from him and fed into warding runes etched into the floor. The two cells in either side of Vlad were separated by the familiar steel bars, giving occupants a view of their neighbouring cell mates.

"Popscu?," A tired voice called from the cell opposite Vlad's, the slumped shadow silhouette of a man that Vlad hadn't seen stirred. Vlad peered against the darkness that masked the cell and struggled before finally putting the name to the voice.

"Master Elderthorn?" Vlad whispered in an astonished voice. When the purge had began Vlad had been certain that the Elders were the first to be hunted down, made an example of how the futile resistance was. Though admittedly it was understandable that Master Elderthorn would be spared, the knowledge he possessed would be deemed invaluable by any logical mind.

"Popscu, if it isn't Adrei's Vladimir. What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the others?" The old man snivelled as he crept on all fours closer to the cell door. As the once great master-sorcerer pulled himself closer into the light, Vlad openly cringed at the sorry state years of imprisonment had reduced him to. The man's face was horrendous, his nose permanently disfigured with a large chunk of it missing at the bridge. He was visibly malnourished and his small head only had wisps of dead grey hair. Elderthorn abruptly hiccuped and let out a concerning giggle, causing Vlad to seriously question the man's state of mind. "I mean, why you? You aren't special. Not like me. I'm very very special. The Emperor agrees, he says I'm special. I'm helpful I am. Because I knows things I do. Yes yes I do"

Vlad looked sickened at the broken shell of a proud man. Living proof that even the most powerful sorcerers couldn't stand up to the might of the Empire. Elderthorn scratched his dirty backside and hummed to himself, looking curiously at Vlad before continuing his mad man's ramble. "So answer me question, what are you doing here?" Vlad considered ignoring Elderthorn, knowing there was little reason for informing him seeing as they would never likely meet again. But had it been months since Vlad had spoken with a fellow sorcerer, and frankly he was desperate for someone's company that wasn't Commander Edelstein's or Arkhangelsk.

"This is my room until morning. Tomorrow I'm being taken North. Arthur Kirkland is alive and the Emperor has ordered a manhunt to bring him back. I'm the unlucky bastard that was chosen to track him" Vlad explained, his voice agonised and pitiful. Elderthorn tilted his head to the side as he struggled to recall, letting out a loud gasp when he put the name to a memory. "Arthur Kirkland...Arthur Kirkland, Kirkland! He was son that Gisil tried to hide away from us!," Elderthorn exclaimed as he realised, his tone turning sinister as he spoke his dark private thoughts aloud "Always wanted to know what was so secret about him. I knew I did something was up when Gisil didn't immediately announce his birth. Never allowed him to be taught under any other Master, never brought him to the meetings. Thought he tricked me but I suspected, I thought it fishy yes yes. I'm not like others. I'm special, the Emperor said so you know…"

Elderthorn slid away from the barred door and proceeded to continued mutter to himself as he curled into a small ball. As he ceased to listen, Vlad swore that he was arguing with some other person about who was the 'specialist'. Vlad been near beaten to death and subjected to unspeakable experiments in the past. But somehow by Fortune's grace he had managed to somehow retained his sense of self. His mind had been stretched and battered but it had just held out. He was one of the fortunate few that could grit through the mental tortures. The others fell and lost their minds, becoming mindless puppets for the Emperor.

Vlad drew his knees to his chest and buried his head into their safety, giving out a broken sob. He had to do this. He had to to survive, he shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to live. It was human nature to prioritise his life over another's. But that didn't stop Vlad's chest feeling like it was caving inward. Shakily Vlad lowered himself down onto the hard cold floor and tried to force his heart to relax. He needed his strength and he needed sleep for the bleak tomorrow. Slowly and rigidly, Vlad fell into a fitful sleep sought with his nightmare companions.

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chambers

"Ya what?!," Allistor boomed in response, Arthur flinched at his brother's furious tone. After the feast the brothers had roamed back to Allistor's chamber to prepare for bed. Although truthfully it had been Allistor dragging Arthur away from his conversation with Alfred, grumbling over Arthur's resistance that they had a lot of catching up to do. When they had arrived at the room, Allistor had proceeded to throw Arthur on his book scattered cot and demanded that he tell him the whole story. Apart from the occasional glare at the mention of the Resistance, Allistor had taken the story rather well. Until Arthur came to the part where the mermaids he had summoned had nearly kidnapped him.

"But they didn't!," Arthur rushed holding his hands up in pacification and then smirking at the elephant in the room "well I mean, obviously they didn't". Allistor made frustrated noise in his throat that sounded like a mix of a growl and a groan, pulling his hands through his messy red hair.

"Ya might as well put ye self on a platter with an apple in ya mouth! Ya know how dangerous they are, especially for us!"

"I had Alfred and Matthew with me! They're stronger then you give them credit for" Arthur defended thinking how the twins had saved his life more then once. He honestly wouldn't of gotten far without them.

"Oh aye? And how did it end? They escaped! They know ya face and they know ye scent. That's more then enough for them to track ya" Allistor whipped back as he began to angrily clear the bed so it could actually be seen.

"They didn't try anything on the way here" Arthur replied with his eyebrows furrowed together, confused at the fact now he had actually thought about it.

"Because ye were protected more then when you were before. They have an insane amount of patience Artie, they'll wait until your guards down. When you alone and defenceless. They may wait for years until they show face" Allistor grimly concluded, looking over to his brother's now very pale face.

"So what do we do?" Arthur questioned with determination, he would not live in fear for the rest of his life. He refused to. Allistor smiled with approval at Arthur's change in attitude. No Kirkland was a yellow-bellied coward.

"We take matters into our own hands. We summon them again, but this time we take them out. I'll set up a magic circle that'll prevent them from leaving once they're summoned and then we shoot them like fish in a barrel," Allistor strategised crossing his arms and closing his eyes to visual the plan. "If they didn't take anything from ya that contained ye scent then it should be only those three that will recognise ya"

"But what if they bring more then three? If they're told others about me then they may bring friends. It'd be better if we had Alfred, Matthew or Lukas as back up" Arthur put forward as nonchalantly as he could, hoping the logical suggestion would overshadow his wish to include Alfred. Allistor stared at Arthur with a perplexed look before shooting his head in disbelief as he finally finished cleaning away the books, leaving room for Arthur to fully lie down. Taking his brother's silence as an approval, Arthur grinned and began to prepare for bed. First came off his heavy green cloak and his weathered snow boots before he proceeded to remove his cotton shirt, not seeing Allistor's horrified expression as he saw Arthur's naked back. As Arthur's head got caught and he struggled to free it, Allistor drew closer with his eyes fixed.

"Let me" Allistor muttered as he gripped Arthur's shirt edge and raised it so he had a better view of Arthur's full back. On Arthur's creamy back directly on top of his shoulder blades, were the two matching long scars. The scars were deep and the skin around them were now inflamed with an angry red. They looked almost infected except there was no disease, merely like something was irritating them. Without touching him Allistor passed his hand over the scars, hurriedly whispering a healing spell to quell the swollen areas. Pushing out the painful memory of how Arthur got them out of his mind and forcing himself to focus.

This was bad. This was very bad. The fact that they had grown worse over the years without care bit into Allistor like blunt nails. They likely hadn't been this bad or Arthur would've noticed and tried something to cure them. Did it get like this when Arthur had arrived in the North? Had something reacted with the winter land's ancient magic? This was a sign, Allistor was sure. A glaring reminder that no matter how many times Allistor had reenforced the seal, he couldn't stop it. It was going to break and there was nothing Allistor could do about it.

"Uh Allistor? This skirt is still stuck over my head and I'm starting to lose air" Arthur's muffled voice squeaked, causing Allistor to mentally slap himself into the present and rip the skirt off. Tossing it onto a chair where the rest of his clothes were crumpled.

"Sorry lad, lost in thought" Allistor weakly admitted as he moved away and headed for the bathroom door. Pushing the rounded door open Allistor stormed over to the carved stone wash basin and splashed his face with cold water to calm down. Glaring at himself in the polished mirror Allistor began to undress until like his brother, he was dressed only in his beige drawstring roll up pants. His impressive chiselled chest was littered with old scars and his limbs were equally well toned and muscular from the years of hard hunting. Scratching one of the large crescent moon scars that Arthur gave him the last he had snapped, Allistor yawned loudly as he exited the circular bathroom.

Arthur had already fallen asleep and was curled up like a cat on his side snoring softly. The thick bear fur covers had been kicked to the bottom despite the goosebumps that covered his pale arms. Allistor smiled at his brother's peaceful face and listened to the steady rhythm to his deep breathing as he quietly moved to extinguish the remaining lit candles around the room. After the last one had been unlit, Allistor climbed into the cot and pulled up the covers around himself and Arthur. Still so what mystified that Arthur was actually beside him sleeping like the past six years had never happened.

But then if they hadn't then there should have been two more people sharing the cot. Seamus and Dylan should have been with them, resting soundly beside them. Allistor stared at his younger brother's face with a turmoil of fear, happiness and determination. He dreaded for what lay ahead in Arthur's future, and was more afraid that he may not be able to shield him from it. And yet the physical proof that Arthur was alive with him filled Allistor with such relief and joy, that he could almost forget about the impending horrors that awaited them. Almost.

Reaching over Allistor gently ran his hand through Arthur's messy soft halo of hair like he had the day they were separated. Some things never change, he thought nostalgically before lowering his hand and drawing closer to Arthur so that he shared his warmth with his shivering brother. The trembling stopped with a sigh from Arthur and he subconsciously snuggled closer into the cosy warmth, pleasantly surprising Allistor as he contently drifted into a dream of the past.

* * *

OOOoohh what could it mean? So a lot of tension building in this chapter, setting up for later chapters. The part I wrote about Seamus and Dylan not being with Allistor and Arthur hurt, got a little sniffle out of me. I'm really looking forward to get the action racing, it's going to be 'fun'.

 **OH MY GOD! A WILD PREWRITTEN CHAPTER APPEARED! Yes it's happened again! I have written the next chapter already and will be willing to release it for the same small price of THREE REVIEWS. Three reviews and I will release the next chapter the moment the third comes in. You want to read it, I want to release it.**

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this chapter and want to see a pig perform a tap dance at your next birthday party, then please take the time to leave a story telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. **If I get three reviews I will release the next chapter early the moment that third review comes in**. Once again thank you for reading,

Until next time folks!


	11. Chapter 11 - Life of a Kirkland

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 11 early as promised! Thank you to the lovely reviewers who have posted your thoughts, is early access is all thanks to you. Currently writing the next chapter but I can promise that that'll also be out soon to, so keep your eyes peeled and the reviews coming in! Without further ado the next chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

11 years into the past, The Elder Grove Isle, A wide clearing chosen for the monthly gathering of the Sorcerers Community.

Allistor Kirkland stopped at the edge of the wide green meadow clearing, looking down upon the gathered sorcerers. The Sorcerer's Community had recently began to hold monthly gatherings organised by the Council in belief it would instate improved communication between independent sorcerers. "Stupid gits" Allistor had thought as he eyed the crowd with distaste. There wasn't any point of giving them 'bonding time'. Sorcerers naturally led solidarity lives and would take to whom they deemed trustworthy, it felt wrong to be forced to interact with people you didn't care about. The only reason Allistor had came was because the Council had threatened to revoke the Kirkland's news owl subscription service if they didn't.

"Seamus! Dylan! Give me back my coin, I earned that!" A certain blonde haired ten year old boy shrieked, to the delight of his teasing older brothers. Allistor felt the usual stress vein pop on his forehead and turned to see what shenanigan he had to deal with now. Auburn haired like himself, Seamus and Dylan were laughing hysterically as they hovered Arthur small coin pouch a few inches above his reach. Arthur rather pitifully jumping up and down to try and reach it, so flustered he obviously hadn't thought to try counteracting the simple levitation spell.

Allistor had had enough. His mood was already foul from being forced to attend this ridiculous campfire singsong. Snapping his fingers, Allistor released the weak spell his brother's had cast on the pouch and simultaneously gave the mischievous boys a telepathic shove, sending all three brothers sprawling onto the grass with cries of surprise.

"Stop bickering ya gobbling turkeys! What do ya think others will say if they see ye pulling each other's hair? Now take off y'ar frilly knitters and bloody behave yourselves!" Allistor growled glaring down at his now timid brothers, Seamus sheepishly passed Arthur's pouch back to him as they got to their feet.

"Just a bit of fun Allistor. Honest," Seamus weakly justified as he dusted himself and walked to join Allistor in looking down at the grouped masses lounging below, letting out a low whistle as he did. "Now that's more sorcerers then I've ever seen in one place"

"Yes, so it's great if you didn't act like your usual twat self" Arthur cut in as he pushed forward to see and yelped in pain as Allistor disciplinarily boxed his ears.

"It means ALL of ya be on ye best behaviour. I will not have tha three of ye embarrassing me for tha sake of ya pathetic bickering. Let's just get this over with" Allistor sighed as he began to stride forward, Seamus, Dylan and Arthur trailing behind. The dark green cloaked boys walked into the freshly cut meadow, the small groups of sorcerers sitting down with one another. There was a large cauldron set up above a roaring fire and was serving soup to whoever would buy and there were a few colourful merchant tents ready to sell their wares. Smells of cooking meat and the sound of conversation and chatter echoed throughout the clearing as the late summer sun beamed down. Allistor inwardly groaned as their arrival began to gain more attention as the brothers made their way further into the busy meadow.

"Kirklands… Gisil..…Arthur…the Sight..Allistor…Head of family now…" The crowd muttered whispered as they passed. Allistor had instructed his brother's to ignore it but that didn't stop them from hearing it. Behind him Seamus and Dylan held their heads up to show that they were above the gossip, only Arthur visibly struggling as he blushed at the comments and tottered dutifully after Allistor.

"Allistor! Why what in hell's bells are you doing here boy?" A booming voice laughed causing Allistor to stop in his tracks, his followers clumsily bumping into one another's back at the sudden halt. Allistor turned his head in the direction of the shout and saw a broad shouldered man swagger towards him. It took Allistor a second to put the face to the name. Adrei Popescu, a sorcerer who specialised in making charms and rumoured to dabbled in the dark arts. He had been relatively good friends with his father and Allistor had even been taught under him once or twice when he was younger. He was a good man despite the rumours, he had a son of his own around the same age as Dylan.

"Adrei, it has been a long time" Allistor smiled and stretched his hand out to have it swallowed by Adrei's much larger one and shaken so it hard it could of dislocated his shoulder.

"Indeed boy! Well not much of a boy now I suppose. You look a man grown, taking head of the family in Gisil's place. It's admirable at the age of fifteen"

"Actually I be seventeen, eighteen next full moon" Allistor quickly corrected. He would not have people look down on him simply because of his age. Adrei nodded and leaned over to catch a glimpse of Seamus, Dylan and Arthur, smiling fondly at the youngsters.

"You're all grown so much since I last saw you. You could all barely walk on those chubby little legs of yours back then", Adrei laughed as the younger brothers blushed in embarrassment and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Adrei turned his attention onto Arthur who was enjoying the sight of the unseen fairies fluttering in the breeze. "Hello Arthur, how's the Sight? See any fae recently?"

Arthur bit his lip as he was once again singled out due to his Sight. He could almost hear his brother's sighing in annoyance at the repetitive routine. "Yes. There's quite a few here with us actually, though Allistor's iron earring is stopping them from coming too close" Arthur quickly explained, eager to divert the attention off him. Adrei looked to Allistor for an explanation out the iron earring scenario, to which Allistor gave a nonchalant shrug to end the matter. Allistor didn't care enough to explain himself.

"Well that's that then I suppose. I wish Vladimir took as much interest in divination as you, he seems completely obsessed with potions at the minute. Positively refuses to even attempt to learn any combat magic, never the right teacher I assume. Say Allistor, Gisil extensively taught you in combat. Do you th-" Adrei slyly began before he was roughly cut off by Allistor.

"No Adrei. The answer will always be no" Allistor bluntly stated, beginning to grow sick of this mans repeated attempts to have Allistor teach his son the Kirkland's renowned techniques. They were the most feared hunters in the community and requests to teach their techniques to aspiring apprentices came relentlessly. It was common practice that as a sorcerer grew up, he would study under multiple masters to broaden his knowledge before choosing to specialise in a field. And while not many actually being wanted to be hunters, the combat prowess of one was most desirable skill to learn for a budding sorcerer. Gisil Kirkland had been the most successful and famous hunter of the past generation. Having inherited the mantle from his father, Gisil had soared with natural talent and the refined teachings that had been past down through the Kirkland family line. Refined teachings that Gisil had hammered into Allistor's memory so that he may teach his brother's once Gisil was gone.

"But why Allistor? I honestly don't understand. Anyone can learn I'm sure!" Adrei rebounded hotly, his face becoming flustered and red.

"Y'ar wrong. Ye forget that we are hunters Andrei. It's not a job, it's a lifestyle. Do ya even have the slightest concept of how hunters are trained? Ma Old man beat it into me as soon as I could hold a bow. He threw me into a Vampire Cove and wouldn't let me leave until I'd slaughtered them all. He made me sample countless poisons so that I developed resistance to all of them. He made me endure blistering winds and scorching desserts looking for alchemy ingredients that didn't exist. He pummelled me into someone who had the balls to be a hunter like him. So if ya think that ye can toss me your wet son and I'll be able to perform a miracle, then y'ar a blind fool!" Allistor spat with such with such force and such ferocity that Adrei stumbled backwards about a metre away from the man twenty ages younger then him. In his eyes there was something that was a mix to respect, recognition and fear.

Allistor felt himself come down from his rage as there was a small tug on his sleeve. Looking down the last of his anger dissolved as he saw Arthur looking up at him with eyes as big as saucepans, watery tears threatening to spill over the corners. Allistor sighed and patted Arthur's head reassuringly that he had his temper back under control, now noticing that his outburst had resulted in silence from the surrounding watchers.

"Alright. You've had your show, now get out of here!" Dylan snapped at the awe struck audience, the bite in his voice sending the guilty sorcerers hurriedly away. As the sorcerers shuffled away, Adrei coughed to try and regain some of his dignity.

"You really are Gisil's sons. Forgive me, My intention was not to offend. I shouldn't be surprised, Gisil would never take any crap from anyone. He was stubborn, too stubborn for his own good at times… You take care of each other, all of you" Adrei said before giving the brothers one last look and turning away to walk towards his waiting son. Allistor watched him go in silence, a dawning moment of realisation crashed on all the brothers. How even among their own kind, they were so very different from everyone else. It was…sad that despite being same, there was a terrifying chasm that alienated them. Even worse that the chasm had been inflicted upon them by their own father.

"We aren't ever going to be normal, are we?" Seamus hollowly asked to his brothers, all of them wearing the same solemn expression as him. Wordlessly Allistor pulled Seamus, then Arthur and then Dylan to him. Simply holding them as if it would shield them from whatever sorrow the truth brought.

And then Allistor echoed their father's words, remembering how he had natively asked the same innocent question years ago. "Never"

* * *

Aww my heart breaks for them. So a dream/flashback from Allistor's point of view. The main point of this scene is to show that while the Kirkland's were regarded 'famous' in the Sorcecers Community, it didn't mean they had life easy. As we can probably tell Gisil, the father, wasn't the best. His story hasn't been fully told but it will be in the subplot of the prequel, Hetalia - Origins.

We see alittle of how Arthur has treated by his brother's when he didn't particularly like him, even Allistor bothering him by wearing an iron earring so that the fairies wouldn't come near. It shows how the brothers were before shit hit the fan, forcing them closer together in the tragic event.

The next chapter I'm currently writing is going very well and feels well balanced. I hope you look forward to reading it :)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story and would like me to forever walk on my hands, the please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	12. Chapter 12 - Snow

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 13! And the cogs are beginning to spin ;) Coming up is one of my favourite moments between Allistor and Arthur, to me it feels very genuine and true to their characters.

Questions and comments from reviews!

ElleDeghe asks: Will Allistor be fighting?

Ooh ho Ho we will definitely see Allistor tearing up the battlefield. He fights like a demon and is the very definition of badass. His weapon of choice? Dual Tomahawks baby!

Now without further ado I present the next chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chamber

Outside the triangular window pane of Allistor Kirkland's room, the relentless snow storm continued to hail down. The high ceiling room's fireplace had been lit and a merry flame danced on top of the piled pine logs, warding away the bitter cold. Dim morning sunlight filtered into the room and shone down onto the cotton cot bed occupied by the two Kirklands. The eldest lay on his back with his limbs eagle spread while the youngest had curled in on himself under the thick furs.

Allistor opened his peridot eyes with the last words of his dream ringing in his ears and groaned at the sudden invasion of light on his sight. As Allistor lifted his head, he continued to blink away the daze that clouded his vision and sat up. Beside him Arthur stirred and continued to mumble thickly "Alfred…not…you..me?". Allistor looked down in his brother's distressed face and felt the horribly familiar wave of powerlessness wash over him.

"Still troubled by ya sleep Artie? I'd hoped that'd changed" Allistor grimly wished to himself, hating that he had no real power to take away his brother's hurt. Arthur began to violently toss and turn before settling and resumed breathing steadily, his frowned face relaxed as the nightmare passed. Allistor bit his lip in frustration and rose out of the cot to perform his routine morning stretches.

"Oi Arthur, shake ya self" Allistor called with no response but Arthur's heavy breathing Without the faintest noise, Allistor silently padded over to window before opening it and scooping up a handful of snow. Chuckling darkly he condensed the snow into a tight ball, took aim and without a moment of hesitation, lobbed the snowball directly at his brother's sleeping face.

The condensed snow exploded upon impact, bursting into smaller pieces as it slammed into Arthur's face. Arthur screamed in such surprise that he bolted up right, lost his balance and slipped off the bed with an undignified high pitched cry. Allistor bellowed his laughter as he clutched his bursting sides, unaware that the loudness of their racket had now woken most of the Palace.

"ALLISTOR! I'LL KILL YOU!" Arthur roared as he scrambled off the boarded floor and launched himself at his howling brother. Not attempting to swipe away his tears, Allistor sidestepped out of Arthur line of flight and has nearly hit when Arthur lashed out his heel in a surprise attack. Arthur grunted as he hit the floor. He whirled and sent back a low kick with his other heel. Allistor chuckled and jumped to avoid Arthur's sweeping ground kick. Upon landing, Allistor brought his knee up aiming for Arthur's chin. Arthur pushed himself backwards to dodge but wasn't quick enough to avoid the follow up grab. Allistor yanked Arthur close and wrapped his thick arm around his throat. Sealing off the windpipe and holding on as Arthur tried to escape the wicked headlock.

"Tap out Laddie" Allistor teased as Arthur wiggled and squirmed. Completely unable to shake off his brother's death grip. Reluctantly Arthur tapped Allistor's forearm in defeat, darting away then released and gulping for air.

"Bastard" Arthur spat as he rubbed his aching neck to soothe it, Allistor continuing to laugh as if it were the most hilarious thing in the world.

"Too good of an opportunity to pass up" Allistor smirked as he strode over to his large wooden chest and began to pull out clean loose white shirts, two coloured tunics and a set of pressed brown pants.

"Hitting me in the face with a snowball or testing how out of practice I've gotten?" Arthur glared as reached out to catch the shirt and light grey tunic Allistor threw to him. Reaching for his pants that had been discarded on the chair the night before.

"Both," Allistor cheerily replied as he took off the drawstring pants he had slept in and shoved his legs through the new ones. Pulling the shirt and dark blue tunic over his head to complete the look. "So the sleeping talking hasn't stopped eh?" Arthur hurriedly tugged the shirt and tunic on to briefly hide his embarrassed blush.

"It hasn't been so bad recently," Arthur commented as he finishing dressing himself, perching on the bed to put his woollen socks on and lace up his boots. "But I mean, I think it's because I've been sleeping near Alf-" Arthur choked without finishing, his ears burning a deep crimson. Allistor wasn't an idiot, and so of course he knew who Arthur had been about to say. However for the sake of his brother's pride he pretended to not understand.

"Who?"

"No one. Ahem! So uh, what's the plan today?" Arthur quickly diverted as he straightened off the bed and reached for his green cloak and spell book in its hip harness. Strapping both items on with practiced ease. Allistor hummed to himself as he to reached for his matching cloak, thinking about the day ahead.

"Well no ones come ta bother us so I assume we have tha morning off. That'll give us some time to practise" Allistor decided, noticing Arthur's surprised look.

"Practise for what?"

"For when we end the mermaids tonight. You've gotten sloppy" Allistor purred the last part and laughed as Arthur whipped his spell book out and threw it at him. Easily catching the projectile with beyond catlike reflexes. Allistor examined the rune engraved leather cover with approval before trying to open it, finding it would not budge. "Personal locking spell? Good job"

Arthur smiled at the praise as he walked around the cot and took back his book, replacing it back on his hip and walking to the door with his brother. "So should we get breakfast first or work up an appetite?"

"Neither, we raid the kitchen and take our loot to the courtyard. An' then I whip ya little plump buttocks inta shape" Allistor winked as they exited his chamber and strode down the corridor towards the unsuspecting kitchen.

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace, The AirShip landing platform

Natasha stood with her feet braced and hands behind her back as she watched the her men march and board their black warships. The latest models were stood on the wide circular platform, ready to take flight with it's crew waiting for the order. Heavy artillery cannons, long range flamethrowers and grappling guns had been polished, buffed and armed to the teeth. Over by her ship Natasha could see her blindfolded prisoner Vladimir being dragged onto the ship in chains, his body limp putting up no resistance as he taken out of sight below deck.

Natasha herself was prepared for the Northern weather. She wore a white lynx furred long coat and matching hat. Her fine leather boots were polished without a speck and her platinum blonde hair was braided into a neat bun. The sky was releasing its white puffs and a few delicate flakes floated down to decorate Natasha's dark eyelashes and eyebrows. Behind her, Emperor Ivan approached silently with three mysterious robed figures followed in his wake. He stopped beside Natasha, watching the boarding alongside her.

"Alive and unspoilt. His retrieval takes the upmost priority" He commanded without emotion, his face forever the symbol of unwavering strength.

"Understood" Natasha answered respectfully, her heart clenching when her brother turned to look at her. Giving her one of his rare special smiles.

"You look beautiful in the snow" The Emperor surprisingly complimented, a unmistakable warm tone colouring his usually icy persona. Natasha's fair cheeks darkened furiously as the blood rushed to them. Her heart threatening to burst from her chest as she clung to her brother's sacred words.

"Y-you are too kind brother" Natasha weakly flustered, her blood feeling as though it had been set alight. The Emperor's smile held its warmth for a second longer before it quelled and its usual cool air resumed its place. He held up his hand motioning to the three hooded figures he had brought, the men stepped forward with eerie symmetry and lowered their pitch black hoods. The middle man of the three was monstrous. His washboard shoulders and tree trunk biceps bulged under his black robe and uniform. A strong square jaw and matching forehead were paired with devilishly black eyes. He bore a long jagged scar that extended from both corners of his mouth, giving the terrifying impression that he was always smiling. The two men on either side wore smooth metal masks that concealed their faces from forehead to chin.

These men were part of the larger group 'The Faceless'. The products of the successful experimentation on the manipulation of a Sorcerer's mind and will, having it warped beyond recognition or completely removed. The success rate was low, most participants driven insane as their mind cracked and forever lost their ability to use magic. Traits such as empathy, disobedience and mercy were suppressed to create the perfect solider. Those whose will was not removed but rather bent into obedience, ascended to the title of 'Elite'. Elites retained their social skills, verbal ability and sense of logic. They were ideal but ultimately flawed. For due to the repression of humane emotions, they exhibited displays of disturbing levels of blood lust and a love for chaos. Making them unruly and difficult to control as precisely as the regulars. The Faceless' magic was basic without preparation, reduced to simple elemental spells and telepathy unless they had the ingredients and proper magic circle ready. Once powerful independent sorcerers, now reduced to weaponised puppets.

"Popscu is weak and will be insufficient for combat on this mission. Take these two Faceless and Elite Silver. I believe with their power, subduing Arthur Kirkland will be smoother" The Emperor stated, turning his head to watch as the broad shouldered figure knelt along with the two regulars before Natasha.

"Elite Long John Silver, at ye service Madame" Silver growled with a bowed bald head, even low his hulking figure was taller then Natasha. The two Faceless did not pass any comment, the ability to speak had been erased from their memory. Natasha cleared her throat as her indiction for them to rise, looking Silver up and down.

"You understand the imperativeness of our mission that our great Emperor has tasked us with?" Natasha tested, aware that they likely already knew but felt inclined to ask in front of her brother.

"Find and retrieve one Arthur Kirkland. Kill any who stand in the way" Silver answered with a twisted grin, flashing his pointed teeth as if he were baring them at her. Natasha resisted the urge to shiver and held her poker face as she nodded.

"Then you may take your place on board. We arrive North in a day and a half, have any magic preparation ready for when we land" She ordered with a wave of her hand, Silver and his men already moving towards her ship. The Emperor made a small humming noise as he watched, his breath tiny puffs against the cold air. There was a pregnant pause between the siblings, something that held the air until Natasha could not hold back her troubled thoughts.

"Brother, why are we doing this?" Natasha asked with a wavering voice, doubts clouding her resolve as she questioned her brother's means. She had always known the goal. And yet sometimes she couldn't help but feel as if they were chasing an unreachable dream. She had never questioned brother's ambition or strength. Conquering a Kingdom had more then proven that. But now standing looking out on the platform, Natasha wondered how much farther her brother was willing to go.

The Emperor stood silent before replying in a controlled voice "Explain yourself Natasha"

"Seven years ago you became this Kingdom's Emperor. Six years ago you purged all Sorcerers. The stalemate between you and Ludwig Beilschmidt is breaking and you are risking all out war with the Nordic Kingdom for one person. You say with Arthur we'll make a breakthrough but I fail to see how. You never told me how you knew exactly how to cripple the Royal family or how you knew things that were impossible to know. None of it made sense but I still followed you even though you only ever told me on a need to know basis," Natasha could feel herself getting more and more hysterical but the words didn't stop.

"I want sister Maria back as much as you do so, why? Why do you continue do keep secrets from me? We're together in this aren't we. And yet you haven't told me the details of why we need Arthur Kirkland. What great purpose we need him for. I want you to trust me so please," She felt tears whelm up in her eyes. Felt her mental dam crack. Her ice queen image melting. "Just tell me why…"

The Emperor stared down at his sister. His poisonously violet narrowed with disapproval over the emotional outburst. It would not do to for Natasha to become delusional. He needed her objective for the mission. Arthur Kirkland needed to be his for Maria to be returned. This part of the plan could not be altered. _**They**_ had made it clear that without him, the deal was off. **_They_** were like Ivan in a way, purposely withholding information to why **_They_** required Arthur. But that wasn't important, what important was making sure that Natasha has in the correct frame of mind. And for that, Ivan was going to have to put on a small performance.

"Natasha," The Emperor shushed, reaching forward and cupping his sister's pale cheeks in his gloved palms. He had seen the gesture used as reassuring move before, particularly between Roderick and his sweetheart. "You must listen to me. I can not tell you everything in this current moment. This is neither the time nor the place to be sharing that kind of information. But know with faith that I will tell you. When you return with Arthur Kirkland, there will be no more secrets between us," As tenderly as a lover, Ivan gently pulled Natasha to him and oh-so-softly kissed her pale forehead. "Once this is over we'll be free to be a family again. We can be happy, together…So will you do this sister for me? For us?"

Trembling Natasha looked up through misted eyes before carefully swiping them away, breathing her answer through flush rose lips

"Yes".

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And the plot thickens, Ivan just what are you up to? ;) So this chapter was verrrryy fun to write. The first section with Arthur and Allistor is definitely one of my most well written chemistry between characters. I love their relationship much. And in regards to Natasha and Ivan, well despite _They_ pulling the strings, Ivan is still very much in control.

Now, the Faceless. We have confirmation that the sorcerers are kept alive and Ivan is weaponising them. Turning them into his own private army. It's tragic how they are stripped of their identities and reduced to puppets, specifically since they were so diverse and organic.

 **It has happened once again! The blessed PREWRITTEN chapter has arrived! And with it... Could it be?! Actual USUK romance?! Yes yes! This slow burn is finally getting more fuel! For the price FIVE REVIEWS I am willing to post the new chapter up early!**

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you would like to see the next chapter up early, then please post a review. **FIVE** reviews is the minimum for it to go up. I hope you are enjoying the story :D Once again thank for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	13. Chapter 13 - Brave Heart

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 13! So sorry for the late update, illness took its toll on me. But to compensate, an extra long chapter for you all!

Enjoy!

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Training Hall

The Nordic kingdom's training hall stood a little distance away from its palace and central to barracks. The Viking style building was huge, built from a mixture of stone and elder-wood. A semi-domed roof crowned the building and wide heavy doors, strong enough to withstand a battering ram, guarded it. The flagstoned floor was spacious and open, the air husky and smelling potently of sweat and testosterone. Closest to the entrance sandbag practice dummies hung from support beams stretching across the ceiling; men practising with their own fists or blades. At middle section of the building, a low ring platform had been established, used for conducting matches between eager fellow soldiers. Sets of weights and Dumbbells lay at the back of the hall, though it was the ring has had the most attention that day.

High above the ring, lazily swinging their legs as they ate, sat Arthur and Allistor Kirkland. After they leaving Allistor's chamber, they had pillaged the Kitchen like he had promised: a block of goat cheese, a few soft rolls of whole grain bread and a couple of apples each. Sprinting ahead Allistor had led the way, taking the route that would provide them the most parkour action. They had slid down roofs, clung to window sills and little outcrops in the walls and jumped from heights that would make the even the bravest cringe. The exercise was hard but invigorating for Arthur. He always loved free running and leaping from tree to tree as a child, pretending to be like the eastern stealth warriors Dylan had told him about. It made him feel like the wind, like he were some shadow unseen by way goers below. It was made all the more better that, because of his thin lightweight build, he was more agile and faster then Allistor. A fact he liked to smother in his face whenever the chance presented itself.

The brothers had scaled the weathered tiled roof of the training hall and slipped in easily through a sky window, before balancing over on the creaking beams above the ring to have a show as they ate. Though Allistor was more concerned about eating breakfast, then watching the over enthusiastic fighters. Arthur however, was watching keenly as Alfred boldly stepped up into the ring, his arms held high above his head and a confident grin across his face.

"Oi Artie, that's the one from last night isn't it?" Allistor asked as he cut a thin layer of cheese from the block and spread it thickly against his spongy roll. The aged smell of cheese against the warm bread making Arthur's mouth water, prompting him to get a bite out of another pink lady Apple.

"Hm? Oh yes, that's Alfred," Arthur confirmed after he bit in the fruit with a nod, looking down again to see Alfred whip off his sweat soaked vest. The light was dim enough for Allistor to miss the light blush that had taken Arthur's cheeks. "I feel sorry for the man who goes up against him"

"Oh aye? And why is that?" Allistor smirked with a raised eyebrow, his mouth full of cheese and bread. A few crumbs stuck to his trimmed auburn beard.

"Because he's got the physical strength of a three ton bull" Arthur admired and smiled fondly down at Alfred who had began his match, facing off against a muscular dark skinned man whom Arthur recognised as Jonny. The two circled each other with raised fists before Alfred struck first, feinting left but pushing sharply off with his heel to attack Jonny's undefended right side. Jonny back-pedalled for more room but was stopped when his back touched the thick rope ring. Alfred saw his chance and darted in low. Like a flash, Jonny brought his knee up to defend, Alfred inches from the flying kick. Forced to tumble to the side to avoid the follow up grab, Alfred spun and bounced on the balls of his feet as he regained his posture. Watchful sky blue eyes anticipating Jonny's next move.

This time Jonny came to meet Alfred, his fists brought up to guard his face as he ducked and weaved towards him. But Jonny's opposition had other plans. Instead of readying his defence, Alfred tightly tucked and rolled to meet Jonny, completely flying clear of his fists and landing himself behind the stunned Jonny. Arthur felt himself cheer alongside the crowd as Jonny tried to spin to defend but was too late. Alfred smoothly kicked the soft place behind the kneecap, causing Jonny's leg to buckle, and swooped down. He wrapped his bulging forearm tightly across Jonny's windpipe and applied pressure, bringing his legs up and clamped them around Jonny's midsection. Jonny gasped as his air was cut off and instinctively attempted to pry off Alfred's suffocating arm. Getting desperate and gulping for air that would not come, Jonny tried to throw Alfred off by falling back and crushing him. Alfred grunted as his back slammed against the hard ring platform but kept his grip strong. Jonny squirmed for a second longer before reluctantly tapping out, his screwed up face had started to turn a dark shade of purple.

The crowd roared as Alfred released his lock and bent down to help Jonny up, raising their fists together as if they had both won the match. In the corner of his eye Arthur caught Allistor give an impressed nod of approval and scratch his beard thoughtfully. Arthur looked back to Alfred and shook his head with silent laughter. Jonny had been taken out of the ring and Alfred was performing his victory lap with a few challenging gestures thrown in.

"C'mon boys whose next?," Alfred bellowed over the men chanting his name and stomped the floor with his arms held open. "Drinks are on me for next one that beats me!"

Well Arthur's ears peeked up at that. Giving his curious brother a cheeky smirk that said 'watch this', Arthur moved out of his sitting position. Crouching like a frog, Arthur waited until Alfred paraded directly below him before he sprung and dived down. Alfred gave out a loud cry of shock when he felt something rocket itself and crash down onto his back, his knees buckling like Jonny's had and his chest lightly pinned against the floor. With difficulty Alfred turned his head so he could see who had managed to sneak up on him, with to his great surprise and amusement, seeing Arthur grin down at him sat with a leg on either side of his back. A confused silence had taken the watchers before they burst out laughing and slapping their knees in good humour. Arthur remained on Alfred's bare back as he crossed his arms with a smug look on his face.

"So Mr Jones, where will you be taking little ol' me?" Arthur smoothly asked as Alfred pretended to struggle to rise, knowing he could easily remove Arthur if he wanted to. But Alfred didn't want to kill the mood.

"Wherever you want Mr Kirkland, I'll be treating you remember?" Alfred replied as he wiggled his eyebrows, drawing a light heartened laugh from Arthur as he clambered off him. Alfred's entire front was a pink colour of protest from being shoved to floor, sparking a few chuckles from the crowd as they moved to allow Alfred and Arthur to leave the ring. Alfred briefly leaving Arthur to go fetch another shirt, Arthur losing sight of him as he pushed his way to get to through the crowd. Arthur jumped as Allistor fell and landed heavily beside him, ignoring his brother's irritated look.

"What was that all about?" Allistor quizzed throwing a puzzled look at Arthur as he dusted himself off and leaned out the way as more soldiers moved to go past him. Arthur actually hadn't known why he had done it. Perhaps he had been caught up in the atmosphere that he had just jumped first without thinking; or maybe he just wanted to give Alfred a taste of his own medicine from back when they had sparred on Whale-Tail island.

Or maybe, just maybe, Arthur was secretly thrilled at the prospect to spend some alone time with Alfred. They had hardly seen each other since touching down in the North. Arthur had been so swept up in reuniting with Allistor that he hadn't had time to catch up with Alfred or Kiku and Matthew. It seemed the more time Arthur spent apart from Alfred, the more he began to miss his shining presence bouncing beside him. He missed laughing to Alfred silly jokes and the two of them just talking together, sharing their worries and secrets, making the burdens just a little lighter. Now Arthur reflected on him, he realised just how big a part Alfred was in his life, and how big a void he left when he was missing. And now the two of them had set aside time for each other, Arthur felt his stomach flutter with anticipation. So lost in his own thoughts, he was roughly brought back to attention when Allistor made an impatient noise with his throat.

Remembering himself, Arthur shrugged as if it didn't mean anything "I thought it'd be funny to swipe that cocky grin off his face". Allistor gave Arthur a suspicious final look before he turned towards the sandy blonde haired youth that was hurrying towards the brothers through the moving crowd. The young man wore brown trousers which had large patches sewn in places and over his loose white shirt swung a large teal blue poncho. His white knitted woollen gloves gripped a parcel wrapped in brown paper tightly and his lavender eyes looked relieved as he finally located the youngest Kirkland. The boy ran up to Arthur and thrusted the parcel to him with a low bow, his hands trembling slightly.

"Arthur Kirkland Sir! A gift from His Majesty Sir!" The lad shouted with his head still bowed. Arthur looked to Allistor for some clarity to find that Allistor was too busy grinning like the cat had got the cream. Uncertainly Arthur took the parcel and looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow as he rose upright.

"What's the occasion lad?" Arthur asked feeling the hefty weight to the box, he could hear a faint thud of two objects colliding.

"In celebration of your arrival Sir. Mr Allistor suggested the idea Sir!" The boy piped happily despite the nervous flickering of his eyes from face to face. It was Allistor's turn to be the subject of Arthur's raised eyebrows.

"Oh he did did he?" Arthur said with dripping sarcasm. Allistor knowingly wiggled his thick eyebrows back for looking at the youth and smiling gratefully.

"Thank you Tino, ya services are much appreciated. Tell tha King, Arthur adored his gift". Tino squeaked with a relived expression and bowed a final time before sprinting away for the door. Arthur's eyes followed the boy until he was no longer in view, turning to demand what Allistor had meant; only to find that Allistor was already strutting towards the exit. Grumbling under his breath, Arthur followed, sliding out of the crack between the two doors. Allistor has facing towards the iced frosty town when Arthur caught up to him with a huff.

"Aren't ya going ta open it?" Allistor asked with an excited twinkle that very rarely visited his green eyes. Arthur rolled his eyes but couldn't put off the giddy grin that had slipped onto his lips, his childish side resurfacing at the prospect of opening a present. He tore off the wrapping and lifted the lid of the cardboard box, letting out a small gasp.

Inside the box were two matching glove gauntlets. They were made of the finest quality of leather, able to be crafted by only the most skilled of smiths. Along the half fingered gloves moulded copper pieces fitted so they would act as a set of brass knuckles in combat. Over the top of the forearm-bracers there was a space created by the thinner inner layer and the hardened outer layer, three small pointed throwing knives sheathed there already. And on the under side, a wicked hidden blade with Spring movement mechanism hid. They were the gauntlets Arthur had seen only the highest ranking Hunters wear, some even rumoured to be part of some secret Assassin group. These gauntlets were the mark of a Master. And Allistor had had a King make them for him.

Arthur looked up at Allistor, his mouth hanging up at a loss for words. He tenderly lifted one gauntlet and almost gave an embarrassing sob at how perfectly they fitted as he slid his hand in. Allistor was wearing an ear splitting grin now as he moved to helped Arthur tighten them, his heart throb at Arthur's expression of wonderment.

"You had these made for me?," Arthur breathed as he examined the tiny intricate Celtic designs imprinted into the darkened leather. Allistor laughed out his exhale as he nodded and finished, reaching for his own gauntlets he had brought with him when Arthur hadn't been looking. Allistor's were of similar design with but they were so much heavier with more additions of steel and looked like they could crush a man's skull with ease. Arthur understood why there were no two of the same; each set had to be tailor made to accommodate their owner's builds and strengths. "They're amazing"

Allistor nodded again in agreement as he flicked his waist back, triggering the spring lock mechanism and releasing the hidden blade so that it sprouted roughly five inches out of his wrist. Arthur let out an impressed whistle and mimicked the movement and delightfully laughed as the blade shot out, his arm recoiling at first from the shock. Allistor watched pleased as Arthur practised activating and deactivating the blades.

"It'll take some takin' used ta fighting with them, but they're brilliant for stealth," Allistor commented as Arthur experimented slashing with them "Just make sure ya don't accidentally stab someone". Arthur nodded and carefully pulled out one of the throwing knives. He flourished it before expertly throwing it against the hall door, where it embedded itself into the solid wood a hair's breath away from Alfred's nose as he was exiting. Alfred stared at blade that had nearly taken the tip of his nose off and then over to Arthur with a flabbergasted look.

"Hello to you to," Alfred grunted after he recovered as he pulled the knife out and scrolled over to Arthur to give it back, noticing his new gauntlet and letting out a low impressed whistle "Now they look worth something" Arthur nodded and looked fondly over to Allistor.

"They were a gift from the King," He said as he took the knife back and slowly sheathed it back into its gauntlet, blushed faintly "Sorry for, you know, nearly taking your nose off". Alfred waved over the apology with a gloved hand. A bell of a town crier could be heard ringing and the Kingdom people had begun their day.

"Na, it's cool. Who needs their nose anyway. Want to go get that drink?" Alfred breezed, ignoring Allistor's directed glare behind Arthur's back. Jeez he knew Allistor wanted to catch up with Arthur but he hadn't left him alone the entire time they had been here. The time Alfred would of liked to of spent with Arthur stolen away so he had sulked off to training with the few men. Arthur opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Allistor's abrupt interruption.

"Actually laddie, Artie and I have some more things ta discuss. He needs to learn how to properly use his new hidden blade so he doesn't take someone's eye out," Allistor stepped, an aggressive tone layered under his mock politeness. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the challenge. So this was how it was going to be. Not taking his eyes off Alfred for a moment, Allistor pointed to a random building in the town "Arthur go wait for me there, we'll practise when I meet up with ya"

Arthur looked uncertainly between his brother and Alfred, not quite able to put together the situation. He had wanted to get that drink with Alfred, but he felt he owned it to Allistor to stay close. Sighing in defeat Arthur turned to Alfred and offered a weak apologetic smile

"Could I meet you here at dusk instead? We could go to one of the late taverns?"

Alfred nodded and returned with a warm smile when he saw Arthur's face immediately brighten. Giving them both a passing wave, Arthur jogged off and launched himself up and onto a nearby house's roof. He gave the duo one last uneasy look for free-running towards the building Allistor had pointed out, leaping easily from rooftop to rooftop. As soon as Arthur was out of sight, Allistor spun onto Alfred and violently pulled him close by his shirt.

"Listen here boy," Allistor snarled the word, "I don't know what you have for ma brother but it stops now. Ya hear?" Alfred looked at Allistor square in the eye and laughed at him before choosing to deliberately anger him and act the innocent fool.

"What stops now?" Alfred asked in a exaggerated high pitched tone. Allistor growled and twisted Alfred shirt tighter, pinching his skin and drawing a noise of muffled pain.

"You bloody know what, pisspot. I have waited seven years to be reunited with Arthur. Seven. Fucking. Years. Ya nonexistent brain might not understand, but Arthur needs to learn how to protect himself. And I cannot teach him if you're making lovey-dovey eyes at him. I am actually working to keep him alive and safe" Allistor glared radiating anger and intimidation. Any sensible man would of backed down in fear of such wrath, but Alfred was sick. He was sick of holding back his advances, his own hesitations gave him enough trouble, so the hell if he was going to add another barrier to Arthur on his list. Instead of trying to get Allistor release him, Alfred leaned forward so that his forehead nearly butted Allistor's.

"Look pal. Get over this stupid 'overprotective brother complex' you've got. Arthur's way stronger then you give him credit for, so quit acting like he's some damsel in distress. He's not helpless and he's not alone. I've always had his back and always will; you can try whatever the hell you want, but that won't change how I feel," Alfred gritted through his teeth, determination ringing with every word. "I get that Arthur has to learn to use his new gear, but make no mistake that he is capable of fighting without you. You don't have to watch him twenty four-seven because I'm looking out with him as well. So for Arthur's sake, we should focus on protecting him together instead of fighting each other" Allistor looked down simmering at Alfred before releasing him with a huff, seemingly calmed from whatever rage he had flown into.

"At least ya heart isn't ruling ye head," He muttered as he took a step away, the fresh snow crunching underneath his boots, and ran his hand down his hand wearily down his face. Allistor dropped his hand to his hip and looked at Alfred with tired eyes, seeming to Alfred like the oldest person in the world in that moment. "I just... want ta see him safe. I had ta watch two of ma brothers die, I can not do it again. That's why I have ta push the both of us,". Alfred nodded with grim understanding and watched Allistor pause and give Alfred a queer look with a slight grin on his face. "Ya know, y'ar not bad at hand ta hand, ye quick on ya feet and Arthur says ye as strong as an Ox…The old man would box ma eyes for this but ma gut is tellin' me it's right; Alfred, I want ya ta go to the sorcerer named Lukas and I want ye ta ask him to teach you about us. Specifically how we fight and our vulnerables"

Alfred blinked in surprise and adjusted his glasses, taken back. He hadn't been expecting that at all. "Why would you want me to know how to fight you? Shouldn't that be top secret?" Allistor crossed his arms and fixed Alfred with a serious look.

"Aye lad, which is why I shouldn't be tellin' ya to. But if ye going ta be stickin' by Arthur, ye have ta know his weak points and how ta cover them well. I've filled Lukas in so ask him an' he'll tell ye," Allistor concluded with a clap on Alfred's shoulder "I'll focus on training Arthur, ya focus on learning ta cover him. Agreed?"

"Got it" Alfred agreed and watched as Allistor took off in the same direction as Arthur had, scaling the walls as if they weren't there and disappearing down the grey tiled roofs. Alfred stood in the snow for a second, listening to the continued yells and cries of the hardworking men in the hall. Someone new must of taken the ring and was clearly on a win streak. He thought back on the words he snapped at Allistor, 'I've always had his back and always will…That won't change the way I feel'. Alfred groaned in dismay. Allistor may of picked up his feelings for Arthur, but when Alfred had said that, he had confirmed it beyond any doubts. At least Arthur hadn't heard it that way, that would have been so much worse.

Allistor hadn't been completely happy that Alfred wasn't backing down, but he seemed appeased that Alfred genuinely cared for Arthur's safety, which Alfred took as a step in the right direction. He hadn't exactly given him his blessing but he had deemed him trustworthy enough to refer him to Lukas, to learn information that was presumably incredibly valuable and sensitive. Alfred stretched his arms above his head before shaking them out and starting towards the Palace with a spring in his step, happy thoughts about his date with Arthur keeping his chest warm against the hailing snow.

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Woo Hoo, quite the chapter. So first thing to clarify, I do not own the concept of Hidden Blades. They was from the awesome video game series Assassins Creed which is owned by Ubisoft. If you haven't heard of it I highly recommend you give it a look, lot of the Kirkland's fighting style is drawn from the assassins moves.

Oh ho Ho, the drama between Allistor and Alfred. I have been waiting for that volcano to erupt for so long. To be certain, Allistor does _not_ have a brother complex, he's just extremely protective over Arthur and sees Alfred as a distraction to Arthur. It's not like Allistor wants Arthur to himself, but he feels as though Arthur needs to stick by him so they won't be torn apart again, which is probably Allistor's biggest fear. It's nice to the two could to an agreement, I didn't want the two to continually butt heads but there will still be some sparks. God help Alfred if he ever hurts Arthur.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this extended chapter. If you are enjoying this series and want to leviate five foot in the air while singing your country's national anthem, please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	14. Chapter 14 - The Lesson

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 14! It's that time again, another chapter. So a quick note the characters known as 'Elites' will now be known as 'Dead men', frankly it sounds cooler and is preferably. Sorry for any confusion this may cause. With that out the way, the next chapter!

Enjoy!

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Archives

Slow dust spiralled in the old Palace's Archives, stuffed to the brim shelves forming confusing mazes of information. Tiny flames danced inside bulbous gaslights and casted warm Amber light into the pale washed walls. The air was silent save the occasionally ruffle of a page and the quiet snore from a sleeping boy. Lukas Bondevik stifled his huge yawn with a delicate raised hand and smiled at his younger brother's calming rhythm. The two of them had been sorting through the records when Erik had decided the work was too boring and fell asleep, his silvery blonde hair pooled out over the open book he had been previously reading. Their table was dotted with many unsteady stacks of thick leather bound record books with their yellowed pages crusty and crisp.

. So Lukas saw none of this, for he was blind. A black cloth had replaced the once lidded lilac mysterious orbs. Lukas was blind but, it did not mean he couldn't see. Being a sorcerer, Lukas was gifted the ability of telepathy, the gift to sense and mentally manipulate his surroundings. More then once in the past Lukas had amusingly compared himself to a bat, using his telepathy to cast a radius around him and create a three dimensional image inside his mind of the environment. True he could not make out details such as faces and images, but Lukas found he rarely missed them anymore; only feeling the pang of remorse knowing he would never see his little brother grown up. Erik's life force flame flittered beside Lukas in the inky blackness that surrounded him. It was how everyone appeared to Lukas, orange bobbing flames with the exception of himself and Allistor, whose flames were a dark blue. He tried not to think about Arthur's, that haunting mystery had lay hostage to his thoughts long enough.

He sighed and again stifled a yawn with a hand that had not seen battle for years. Lukas had been about to reach over to proximately where Erik dreamed and shake him when the introduction of new bright presence entered his radius, the person's bonfire sized flame spitting and blazing as it drifted closer. Whoever this person was, they were incredibly strong, Lukas thought as their heavy footsteps pounded and stopped in front of the table.

"Are you the sorcerer called Lukas?" A young man's voice called out uncertainly between hagged breaths, as though he had been running. Lukas turned his head and smiled in the direction he estimated the speaker to be.

"Yes I am a sorcerer by the name of Lukas Bondevik, may I ask for your own?" Lukas replied softly as he rose off his seat and stuck his hand out to be shook, a large warm hand enveloped his own.

"Alfred Jones, Special Agent of the Resistance sir. Allistor Kirkland suggested I come to you to learn about sorcerers" Alfred Jones explained with his pink tongue nervously wetting his dry lips as he shook the Sorcerer's hand, unable to help but notice how small and fragile it seemed to his own beefcake one.

"That does surprise me, Allistor inviting a stranger to learn our secrets," Lukas quietly chuckled as he sat himself back down and motioned to Alfred to take a seat "would you tell me why you ask for this knowledge?"

Alfred paused and shuffled his weight from one foot to another before answering. "Well you know, uh- we can never be too careful. Knowledge is power and all that" He nervously laughed, he'd already admitted to liking Arthur to Allistor and he wasn't ready to tell another. Lukas nodded slowly and placed his hands together as he thought.

"I see, then I will start with the basics… There are three types of magic, mana if you will: World Mana, Body Mana and Soul Mana. World Mana is the natural energy that exists in the world around us. We constantly absorb this and convert it into useable Body Mana, which is what you may have seen Arthur use in the past. You could imagine a sorcerer's body like a rain drum; World Mana is the rain that falls into the basin to fill it, however the sorcerer can only use that water when it has been purified" Lukas explained as simply as he could, it was difficult explaining such a foreign concept to someone who it didn't apply to.

Alfred listened intently and folded his arms before asking his question, "So what if you use all your purified water but the rain drum is still full of rain?"

"Then you are 'out of magic' as you cannot safely use any. If you attempted to use magic with just World Mana, then it would become dangerously uncontrollable. I remember a sorcerer who was foolishly convinced that he could harness World Mana. Alas it resulted in his death as he tried to create a gentle wind for his ships sail, but ultimately created a crushing whirlpool that swallowed his ship and crew…World Mana is never to be trifled with lightly, it should only be used to fuel one's Body Mana" Lukas grimly lectured to his temporary student, whose mind was struggling to comprehend. He'd never imagined the layers and risks of using magic.

"Okay so World Mana is bad to use. What about Soul? That sounds like a big deal" Alfred commented as he leaned forward to pick up one of the books that lay on the polished oak surface, opening its pages and biting his lip when he saw its contents written in some sort of rune like language. Lukas nodded his head in somber agreement.

"Indeed it is. Of all the mana types, the Soul Mana is the most complicated. Soul Mana is governed entirely upon ones emotions, a fragile balance that tiptoes on the type-rope between Order and Chaos, the forces of Light and Darkness"

"Like Yin and Yang? Good and Evil? They're like, real?"

"They are both very real. Order and Chaos, the first Ancient gods born. The Soul is eternally bound to their natures, if it's will is not strong it will be consumed by the Darkness; become a corrupted empty vessel and be forever enslaved" Lukas concluded heavily with an exhausted sigh.

"Then why would anyone ever consider using their Soul Mana if they risk losing themselves?" Alfred quizzed as he closed the book and ran his hand over the worn cover, it's title read 'The Lost Chronicles of the Fountain of Eternal Youth'.

"Some are desperate, some are greedy and some wish for miracles. Human kind has a unquenchable lust for things they shouldn't. Sorcerers are the unfortunate ones that have the power to grasp them," Lukas paused for a moment to reflect on his own teachings, imagining giving the lesson to Erik, had he inherited magic, instead. "Does this satisfy your curiosity Master Jones?"

"Honestly, I think I'm more confused then when I started," Alfred replied sheepishly "But it was helpful understanding the mechanics of it, thank you…" He trailed uncertainly, the sickening topic he almost dared not to bring up now weighing heavily on his mind. Lukas clearly sensing the man's hesitation, made a clearing noise in the back of his throat.

"Please Master Jones, ask whatever question is pressing your mind" Another pause before Alfred took a deep breath and spoke.

"When I was in the Capital, I attended a Black Underground auction. There were a lot of gross stuff being sold… Like a pair of sorcerer's golden eyes. When I saw that you were blind I couldn't help but think…" Alfred trailed off once again, unable to find the words. The sorcerer remained silent before sadly laughing under his breath.

"I suspected something of that sort happened to them. It's not entirely surprising. The day the purge of the sorcerer's began, Erik here and I fled for the North; we were close friends with His Majesty and his late father and knew we would be hid. We were a air crossing away when we captured, I fought but was overwhelmed. The bastard soldiers took my eyes as a trophy and threatened to murder Erik if I attempted resistance.

Things were bleak for the both of us… And then young boy by the name of Tino Väinämöinen saved us, cutting our chains and escaped on a airship travelling North alongside us. We arrived safely where I was immediately treated, Erik became a ward of the palace and Tino was rewarded with the position of the King's servant.

We were safe and comfortable, but the thought of my dying kin haunted my dreams every night. I feel guilty now for being so sheltered while they ran for their lives. When I learnt through a vision that the Kirklands were cornered by Imperial forces, my heart leapt at the chance to save them. I sent a Harpy to bring them back to the safety of the North, but she returned with only a heartbroken Allistor in her talons…It took Allistor a year to recover from losing his brothers, Seamus and Dylan dead and Arthur's fate unknown in the Capital. He would scream his throat raw and curse himself for his inability to protect them. He was a broken man, until the day I had a vision of Arthur, alive and well. After I told Allistor of my vision, he snapped back. He poured over his studies with new passion and sought Eduardo von Bock's help restore him to his physical peak. Allistor found himself again and he and I waited for Arthur to return. The moment they were reunited was the happiest I've seen Allistor in six years" Lukas finished with a small smile for his friend, the outside sun now kissing the horizon as it retracted its dimmed beams. The darkening orange light from the window a lot Alfred's tense face, his bottom lip quivering before he gritted his teeth together in cold anger.

"Ivan will pay for what he has done. When I first joined Ludwig's cause, I joined for revenge. To avenge my parent's death, but now I see how selfish that reason was. I've met people who I want to protect, I realise that this war isn't about revenge for what's happened; it's about doing what's right so no one will ever be put through it again. That's my reason to fight" Alfred announced with such firm resolve and strength, that Lukas felt he were facing the glorious summer Sun itself.

"Those are wise words Master Jones for one so young. They inspire me with great confidence that in the future, you will do the right thing," Lukas smiled at the soldier's radiance before his smile turned sour, speaking in a faraway disconnected voice that echoed off the walls.

"I fear something ill willed draws near, something that twists my stomach and sets my teeth on edge. Beware the black snow Master Jones, it brings only death and pain" Lukas warned, folding his hands together on the table. Alfred nodded as he heeded the grave warning, thanking Lukas for the lesson and left the quiet library in search for Arthur; unaware how soon Lukas' prediction would come true.

* * *

Ooh we are close to the climax, I am so ready to get this action rolling! So we learn about the mechanics of magic and the laws its governed by and loose knots regarding Lukas' back story and Allistor's are tightly tied up. I am really excited for the next few chapters, shit has been thrown in the air and is flying towards the fan ;)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story and would like to see more, please consider leaving a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for and as always,

Until next time folks!


	15. Chapter 15 - I see Fire

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 15! It's here! The Chapter I that snowballs the action! So excited to get this rolling, I hope you enjoy it as much I will ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The crossroads down to The Training Hall, The Palace and the town of the Nordic Kingdom.

Arthur Kirkland shivered violently as he looked towards the town's firefly like street lamps. The dim sun had set and the freezing night had come. The temperature had fallen like an anvil and the constant falling snow raged its wintry war with newly replenished energy. The frantic wind tore and whipped at Arthur's blonde hair and cloak as it were intentionally trying to steal his precious warmth, it's cold bite making his spring green eyes water.

"How like Alfred to be late" Arthur huffed to himself as he provoked his magic and expelled his warming breath of fire, his exhale exiting as a small puff of flame "Perhaps he forgot…" He tried to quell his disappointment at the notion. As he listened to the swirling storm whir and circle around him, Arthur's mind was cast into the recent past. To the helm of a rebel airship travelling north.

* * *

"Aye aye Captain, how be the our course on this fine evening? " Arthur heard Alfred call in a poor intimation of a pirate's voice as he climbed up the plank stairs towards him with a mock salute. It had been particularly strong winds in the sky's that day and the men who were sensible had ducked below deck, leaving the reluctant Arthur to pilot by himself. Arthur rolled his eyes at the poor impression and bounced the helms wheel back and forth with his hands, as he struggled with his creeping smile.

"Absolutely spiffing Alfred," Arthur loudly called over the wind. Alfred raised a shielding arm as he fought to stand beside Arthur, reaching to grip the control station and ground himself in place. The two breached and huddled against each other as the wind slammed into them, making them swayed them threateningly.

"It's sniffing?"

"No! Spiff- you know what, never mind. In regards to our course, we have roughly four days ahead of us" Arthur replied, bringing his head closer to Alfred's so they wouldn't have to shout. Alfred nodded before his eyes grew wide and eyebrows flew up in the expression of remembrance. He looked to Arthur with a look of joy.

"Four days? It'll be the day before Christmas when we get there!" Alfred cried to the nonchalant Arthur who shrugged his shoulders. Alfred stopped in his tracks and stared confounded at Arthur, "Are you saying you don't celebrate Christmas?".

Arthur shrugged again and looked away from Alfred "It was never a holiday for my people, just another day. When I lived in the Capital, Francis would try to drag me to countless parties and dinners. But he'd leave me when he saw I didn't want to be there" Arthur recounted solemnly as he tapped a rhythm on the wheel. Alfred continued to stare at Arthur with an expression that looked like pity, and when he spoke a unmistakeable note of iron determination clenched in his voice.

"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur looked up at the mention of his full name and felt the blood rush to his cheeks when he saw Alfred had leaned in, so close that Arthur could feel his hot breath on his lips. "Here and now I swear to you, I will do everything within my power, to bring to you the best Christmas experience a man could ask for" Alfred promised with sapphire fire in his eyes. Arthur couldn't help but pull away and laugh, he had never seen Alfred so serious! Over Christmas of all things! Arthur was about to rebuff him when he paused. The face of a earnest child met him. A simple face with trembling sky-blue eyes and a quivering lower lip. In that moment to Arthur, Alfred's presence was the clean fresh air and the rich toiled earth, the definition of health and happiness. Sunshine that radiated through the gloomy grey. Intoxicating sunlight that basked whose close in its shining rays.

Somewhere inside Arthur pined for that wholesome light. Made him feel lightheaded and lighthearted. Rather, Arthur realised, Alfred made him feel that way. Alfred, with his silly gravity-defying cowlick and ridiculously stupid dopey grin, made Arthur want to forever revel in his golden glow... There was of course a more obvious name for what Arthur felt, a word he had not dared utter aloud. Back on earth with his mind and heart a storm, Arthur could only manage a weak nod. Appeased by Arthur's nonresistance, Alfred flashed his brilliant smile as he pulled away and looked forward with bright eyes. Arthur briefly looked down embarrassedbefore he followed Alfred's graze to the clearing pink horizon and the approaching Capital.

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The crossroads down to The Training Hall, The Palace and the town of the Nordic Kingdom.

A rippling crackle of pain snapped Arthur out of his memory. He hissed and fought the urge to expose his back to the winter elements, perhaps the snow would of calmed his infernal itching. But Arthur was wiser then that and so he suffered in uncomfortable silence as he waited for Alfred, whom as though to talk of the devil, approached with a raised hand through the mild blizzard.

"Ayo Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed as he jogged to catch up to Arthur, who had already began to start walking at a brisk pace.

"Good evening Alfred, ready to paint the town red?" Arthur snickered as the two walked side by side down the frosted road connecting the Palace and the rosy gaslit town. Alfred, who had donned a thick black woollen cloak over his leather bomber jacket, looked to Arthur in confusion.

"Is that what you want to do? I mean it sounds hilarious, but it's probably not okay to vandalise the country that is hiding us" Arthur scoffed at the misinterpretation.

"Honestly! Must I explain everything I say to you? It's a metaphor, for you see…" Arthur began to explain as they entered the actual town itself, slowly migrating and mixing themselves into the town folk crowd, where they continued their night together.

Time Passed…

"No way dude, I don't believe that you led a mutiny against a pirate overlord. I've never even seen you hold a sword!" Alfred howled as he elbowed Arthur's side playfully, their footsteps clopping down the paved flagstone . Low arched roofed homes with roaring heaths lined the road with one open doored tavern on their left; drunken men milled and toasted merrily outside as music and candlelight drifted onto the street. Alfred and Arthur were shielded from the thrashing winds and so the snow was allowed to sprinkle down softly. Their evening having consisted of hopping from restaurant and tavern to try the best food the North had to offer. After their food, they had decided to aimlessly drift about the town. Arthur chuckled as he reminisced on his wild childhood.

"Tis true my dear Alfred. Every single word I assure you," Arthur reassured Alfred with a returning light shove. Alfred shook his head as if he still didn't believe before his brows drew together and his pressed his lips together in a tight line.

"Not gonna lie Arthur, when do you plan to write back to Francis? It's been like three days and he's heard nothing. He's gotta be worried about you" He stated giving Arthur a hard look. Arthur's eyes narrowed at the mention of Francis as he clenched his jaw, he had no wish for the topic Francis to ruin his night with Alfred. When he continued to feel Alfred insistent stare for an answer, Arthur bit his lip in frustration and rolled his eyes over to Alfred.

"Writing a response hasn't been my highest priority since finding out my brother I had thought dead is alive and I'm not the last sorcerer alive" He snapped frostily harder then he should of, feeling a pang of regret when he saw Alfred flinch at the tone. Arthur was about to apologise when Alfred's face had already hardened and he had taken a step closer to him.

"Stop it. Stop this whole 'wounded animal' act you're playing. This isn't about how upset you were about his letter, Francis deserves a reply back, even if it's to tell him what you ate for tea. So stop being all sappy and have the decency to give him a response" Alfred affirmed, steeling his stare against Arthur's. A pregnant pause lasted between the two when Arthur gave in with a sigh and the line etched between his thick brows disappeared.

"I'll write back to him tonight. Tell him how bossy you've become now he's not here to protect me" Arthur barked a laugh and although his words held pretend offence, his eyes silently thanked Alfred. The American nodded and excitedly pointed to festive decorations that clothed the homes and street lamps, the argument forgotten. Strips and wreaths of holly bushes hung on doors and windowsills with red ribbon with fat silver and gold baubles. Faintly Arthur heard the trickle of chorused song float towards him.

 _Maybe I've been here before,_

 _I know this room,_

 _I walked this floor,_

 _I used to live a-lone before I knew you_

"What is that?" Arthur asked in curiosity as his feet carried him in the direction of the harmonic voices.

"That? Church hymns me thinks" Alfred easily replied as they rounded a quiet corner and saw the White building that was the Church of Gaia. It had a proud bell tower and its wide elder wood doors were thrown open with welcome invite. Arthur stopped and stared at the quaint church, and wondered what it must be like to raised his voice along with the singers inside, under the reason of worship.

 _I've seen your flag on the Marble Arch,_

 _Love is not,_

 _A victory march_

 _It's a cold and it's a bro-ken,_

 _Hallelujah._

 _Hallelujah, hallelujah,_

 _Hallelujah_

 _Hallelu-jah_

A unsuspecting hot wet trail fell down Arthur's cheek, surprising him and caused him to hurriedly swipe them away. "Why do they sing so?" He asked quietly as he listened to the mellow, emotional tune. Alfred looked from the church and stole a lingering loving glance at Arthur before he hurriedly struck his hands into his jacket pockets.

"It's a church of worship. They sing for Gaia, they sing for peace and health and a long life. Matt and I used to go with our parents every Sunday," Alfred recalled as he pushed his thin framed glasses up to the bridge of his nose and cocked his head to side "want to go in?". Arthur looked to Alfred and smiled with a nod, immediately dropping his smile when he saw something black land on his nose.

Alfred stared at the black smog that landed on Arthur's face, time seeming to stand still. Impossible, not now. Black snow. Lukas's warning. He spun on his heel to look South and the sight sent a ragged dagger into his heart. Camouflaged against the pitch twilight, five colossal Imperial warships stalked closer. Alfred's heartbeat ceased to pound, his eyes widened as he saw the orange flash flame of cannon fire. Saw the explosion before he heard the sound, the lethal boom before the shrieking whistle of the projectile plummeting towards them. He didn't have time to think, only react.

"Get down!" Alfred limbs moved on their own, he twisted on instinct and threw his large body on top of fell hard with Alfred's weight crushing down and caused Arthur to cry out in pain. The cannonball dived over their heads, it's explosive impact shook the earth as its sound nearly burst Alfred's eardrums. The shattering eruption of the splintered remains of the church slammed a intense wave of heat into Alfred that was so hot he forgot how to breath. Flaming pieces of wood debris rained down and set his woollen cloak aflame and smoking. Underneath him Arthur opened his terrified eyes, looking dazedly around before his mind caught up and focused on Alfred. A urge to sigh with relief took Alfred when he saw Arthur was unharmed.

" Alfred? What happened? Alf- Alfred you're on fire!" Alfred distantly heard Arthur shriek over the crackle of the engulfing tower of flames. Snapping out of his trance, Alfred sprang off Arthur and tore off his enflamed cloak and tossed it out into the screaming street. With difficulty he turned his face towards the suffocating heat of the tower of flames, bits of ash stinging his exposed skin.

"The singers…," Alfred croaked through his closed throat, taking in a raspy inhale "we need to move, we need to get to the Palace". Behind him Arthur had got to his shaky feet and was looking to the warships with boiling venom.

"Those bastards" He spat through his gritted teeth, the screams and mini quakes echoing throughout the petrified town. Around them families stampeded for cover, some with missing limbs and bits of buildings stuck in them. Fires leapt from house to house and trapped helpless citizens , their terror pitched cries shrilling with no help to come. In the sky two of the imperial warships were slowly advancing towards the Royal Palace while its partners rained constant gunfire on the Wall that struggled to defend. The Empire had finally come to finish the job of swiping out the North.

"We need to get to the Palace, Arthur" Alfred repeated louder so that Arthur heard, inclining his head towards said Palace as he reached forward and took other's hand. With Alfred in the lead and Arthur closely following behind, the duo sprinted through the under fire town. Never letting go of each other's hands as they ran for their lives.

* * *

Yesss, finally. The Empire has finally arrived up North, I have waited so long for the upcoming events. Let it begin.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter (I know I did). If you would like to see the next exciting chapter fly in as quickly as possible, please leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. They always mean the world :).

 **Due to motivation, I am happy to release the next chapter early as soon as I finish it opposed to the usual update day of Sunday. Five reviews is all it takes to find out what happens to our heroes early!**

Once again thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	16. Chapter 16 - Ready your blade

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 16! Ooh it's finally ready! The next chapter! Thank you to the lovely reviewers who brought this to you all early, I always always appreciate the feedback. Let's do this,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Main Hall

"We have under an hour before the Empire begins its ground assault. Maybe less." Berwald Oxenstierna stated grimly to his King and General Ludwig, Kiku Honda and Matthew Williams stood to attention on either side of their leader. The five men stood around a circular table central of the hall, a thin paper map spread across it detailing the blueprints of the Palace and town. Rebel and Northern troops rushed around them to the Arsenal and returned with rifles in hand. The many individual footsteps resonating into a like rain pattering echo that bounced off the grand hall walls. King Simon, with an enormous battle axe strapped to his back and a belt of pin grenades around his hips, sighed and leaned forward on the map to point at the courtyard to the entrance hall.

"If we station the front lines here, it will not only cut off their main access to the palace, but also focus their fire so that the women and children may escape through the back" He put forward as he traced an invisible route from the back of the Palace to the bottom of the mountain labelled 'Atlas' Peak'. An general agreeing sound came from the crowded men as Matthew cleared his throat to speak up and motioned to the two dimensional mountain.

"Is there no kind of shelter for evacuees to hide in? No structured storage hold?" Matthew gingerly asked to the northern King, though it was Berwald that answered in a stiff voice.

"There is a cave system that travels deeper into the mountain. It's no bunker but the caves can only last as a temporary place. If this battle is prolonged, I fear that the supplies stocked there won't be enough to sustain the people for long" The ill news sat uneasily on the gathered men's minds, the knowledge that if the siege got drawn into next week, then the women and children would die of starvation before an enemy soldier. It was then Ludwig's turn to speak, his shoulders uniformed and square as his voice steady and confident.

"Even if we concentrate the front lines in the courtyard, there will be a wide hole left in our defence. We need an aerial counter strike to leverage cannon fire off the main structure, along with the primarily line of defence stationed in the entrance courtyard and a precautionary second line inside the Main hall to cut off any parties that are able to slip through". The plan Ludwig put forward was well received as evidenced by the lack of objections and tiny agreeable nods. King Simon was about to assign roles when the table's attention was drawn away by five approaching men, Allistor Kirkland at the head leading the charge. With his ever present blindfold; Lukas, his younger brother Erik, the King's servant Tino and the formerly unseen King's advisor named Eduard von Bock followed up behind. The Scot marched up boldly to the gathered, his dual tomahawks hanging from his belt and a frightening scowl on his face.

"Has anyone seen Arthur? He scampered off two hours ago and he still hasn't shown face" Allistor questioned as he looked from face to face with eyes that held burning Greek fire. For a man that held no political standing in the Kingdom, Allistor Kirkland was wisely respected and feared enough that even the King himself felt intimated in the face of his potential wrath. Silence proceeded until brave Matthew spoke up with his forced head held high.

"All I know is that he left with Alfred and together they went into town. No ones heard from them since" Matthew explained with understanding regret, he was to worried about his own brother's mysterious whereabouts. Allistor groaned at the lack of information in Matthew's answer and ran his hand down his face, looking up to Ludwig as the Resistance leader recalled for everyone's attention.

"We may not of heard from agent Jones and Kirkland, but the priority now is on holding the fort here," Ludwig enforced, raising his finger to point at the respective person as he gave them their order "Agent Williams, take von Bock, Väinämöinen, Steilsson and His Majesty back through the Palace to the evacuation point and stay to defend the citizens. Agent Honda, I need you to commend and fight with me on the front lines while Mr Oxenstierna leads our aerial assault. Mr Kirkland, could I trust you and Bondevik to hold down the second line?" Ludwig issued in his most authoritative voice, feet apart in the stance of power and head held high, making the council his own. There was stunned silence before it was crudely broken by Allistor's tusk as he rolled his eyes in response.

"Don't think this means I follow ya. _I_ follow no one. Especially not a guppy spud like you. When Arthur arrives, send him ta me and tha three of us will hold our plot," Allistor announced as he dug his thumb down on his belt and whistled at Matthew " Oi sunny boy's mirror, ya might want tha get a move on with His Majesty and company. Yer have quite tha trip ahead of ye" He snapped before he dismissed himself with a spin on his heel and returned to Lukas to explain the situation, the two of them already making for the main hall. King Simon frowned at the reminder of the plan and directed his refuelled anger onto its creator.

"Ludwig, I have always respected you, your battle tactics. Placing you as my tactician more then demonstrates that. However, I did not know that the faith in this alliance was so one sided at you would have me hide from my own fight. What kind of King would I be if I hid at the first sign of challenge?"

"You'd be an alive one, Your Majesty," Ludwig returned curtly, business face on "Your people need you alive if you are to lead them another day. If you cannot resist the urge to sheath your weapon then defend alongside Agent Williams if you will" The King stared at Ludwig for a tense moment before he nodded and followed Matthew out the heaving hall along with the others, leaving Ludwig, Kiku and Berwald alone. Berwald reached up to adjust his collar before he glared at the General with his sea green eyes. A concealed storm of disgust and rage over Ludwig's rudeness towards his King.

Berwald stepped in close to hiss through his gritted teeth, "The only reason I have tolerated your imprudence is because, right now, the wellbeing of this Kingdom needs a experienced strategic mind, General Ludwig. But make no mistake that there is nothing worse then a monkey who climbs a tree and thinks himself tall" And with that Berwald strode away from the table and out the hall, turning left to ready a squadron of airships. Ludwig sighed in exhaustion before he rightened his posture and turned to Kiku.

"Grab your blade Agent Honda, the first battle between the Empire and the Resistance is about to begin"

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, Imperial Warship, The Deck

The sister of the Emperor looked down upon the burning town with deep satisfaction. A vision of beauty lay before her. The red and orange toasty flames contrasting between the pure White snow. She took a long deep breath in through her nose. It smelt of home. At least it probably did, under all the smoke and gun powder.

"Ready ourselves for ground assault. Bring out the prisoner and the Deadmen, we must press our advance with haste" Natasha ordered with a sweeping arm, her white furs replaced with black combat armour complete with matted metal breast plate, a combat knife strapped to her thigh and semi automatic pistol on her hip. Her white blonde hair was tightened into a bun and an assault rifle swung in her back. Truth be told, Natasha would of felt better if she had a belt of grenades, but she wasn't picky. After all she knew how to kill a man eight different ways with a newspaper. Behind her as she stood looking down at the smoking kingdom, the two Deadmen, the one by the name of Long John Silver and Vladimir Popscu in chains came forward. They all bowed, albeit Vladimir did out of fear not respect, before rising to receive Natasha's orders.

"This will not be a drawn out attack. It is a precise movement. We strike hard and we strike fast. Our fleet of troops and our ships engage with their main forces while you four act as a covert team, grab the target and retreat" Long John raised his head with a wicked pointed teeth smile.

"What about the ones that would shield him?" His horrid scars stretching into a demonic Cheshire Cat smile. Natasha refused to shudder and kept her eyes down to the snowy ground.

"Kill them all, I have no interest in prisoners," The ice queen answered in such a frostbite tone that her dear brother would have been proud. Upon hearing the rattle of Vladimir's chains and remembering how they bound magic, Natasha turned and fixed her arctic glare on Vladimir. "Undo his chains so that he may locate the target's location," A weighted thud of the thick chains hitting the deck could be heard and Vladimir wincingly rubbed his sore waist "He's still definitely in the Palace?" Natasha questioned, recieveing only a shameful nod in response. A cruel smile worked onto her face as she turned and raised her hand high as the signal to begin their descent. The warship purred as its well oiled engine slowed and their altitude decreased, the North's pathetic Wall of defence desperately tried to slowed them but to no cigar.

"Now Arthur, let's finally end our little game of hide and seek" Natasha quietly spoke to herself as she moved away from the edge to rejoin her soldiers, already positioned to jump the moment of touchdown.

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Entrance Courtyard

"Hell's bells, so soon" Arthur whispered to no one as he and Alfred ran to the crowded Palace courtyard, the Imperial warships now sinisterly floating down and over the Wall. Arthur's throat clenched as he thought of the upcoming battle and continued to allow himself to be half pulled by Alfred, being very careful not to accidentally activate his hidden blade and take his friend's hand off. The two of them bounded into the courtyard that was littered with high piled sandbags and stern faced armed men. One young soldier spotted them rapidly approach and was half way through aiming his gun before he realised his mistake, looking terrified as Alfred glared at him as they zoomed past. Their sudden presence drew more attention as they rushed deeper into the camp, not dropping a pace till they saw Ludwig and Kiku. The General and his second in command were busy checking their weapons when Arthur and Alfred reached them, Kiku testing the edge on his knave blade and old family katana as Ludwig slipped the magazine out of his gun to check the bullet count.

"Kiku! General! What's the situation?" Alfred called causing the men to look up and breathe out a sigh of relief before advancing to meet them.

"Where have you been? No, wait, it doesn't matter. Jones, get yourself some guns and come back. You're on front lines with us. Arthur, your brother and Mr Bolshevik are waiting for you in Main hall as our second line of defence. Go now" Ludwig barked before his attention was demanded by a confused trooper and moved away to assist. Arthur blinked as he tried to process the order through his brain that felt as though it were made of wet tissue. It wasn't his own order that caused him difficulty to think straight. Alfred was to remain on the front lines, away from him, out of sight where gods know what could happen. Arthur's eyes shot to Alfred's, to find them already waiting. A confusing mix of reluctance to leave and courageous determination to fight pooled there.

"I'll be fine Arthur," Alfred softly reassured as if he knew the question pressing on Arthur's mind, giving their hands a brief squeeze before he released them. Arthur tried to ignore how light and empty his hand felt as he shook his half fingered gloved hand to return the circulation to them. Alfred turned to Kiku as he shook off his bomber jacket to reveal a black military vest beneath and tied the sleeves around his waist despite the cold. "Where are the guns kept?" He asked with a serious face, the gentle eyes he had grazed at Arthur with gone. Kiku pointed over a pile of wooden crates containing a variety of pistols, a sawed off shotgun leaning against the assembled boxes and upon spotting it, Alfred nabbed it and slung against his chest. With the skill of a practiced gunner he pocketed a pair of dual pistols, their additional magazines, the shotgun's full ammunition belt and finished with two small flash bombs. He needn't be worried about close range combat when he could crush a man's wind pipe without trouble.

Arthur watched all of this with a tight heart. He knew the two of them were capable in combat, and he did _know_. Alfred was a bloody tank in battle, his strength borderline Herculean. Arthur knew he was being ridiculous, that he had nothing to worry about. But of course whenever one has feelings for another, the inevitable paranoia always infects the nervous mind. Alfred would be out of sight, in the line of fire. A stray bullet and Arthur would never see those dazzling eyes smile back at him again. His heart throbbed frantically around the invisible fist that squeezed it, turning his breath ragged and his vision shaky. Calm down! Arthur screamed at himself and dug his nails into his leathered palm to distract himself...The unconventional method worked as Arthur's breath slowed to a rate that wouldn't induce hyperventilation.

Alfred turned back around as he pulled on a pair of black gloves, giving Arthur a pained look as he walked over. "I suppose we go our separate ways now," Arthur quietly spoke through numb lips as he stared at Alfred's chest, which was easier then looking into those crystal rock pools. "Funny, ha- I thought we would have more time".

Alfred shook his head with a little smile "You're acting like we won't ever see each other again". Around them the men were yelling each other to position themselves ready behind cover. A horribly tense, frantic air had taken the courtyard. The light snow, bearing no care for the troubles of men, rained down its frozen puffs.

Arthur sniffed through his reddening nose and let out a chuckle as he gestured to Alfred's face "Well not that I wouldn't mind not seeing that ugly mug around".

"Jeez, look whose talking eyebrows" Alfred joked back before the two uneasily paused, shared a simultaneous exchanged look of understanding. And, as if he had done it his whole life, Arthur stepped into Alfred's open embrace, his arms wrapping securely around him like a comfort blanket.

"Please be careful Alfred," Arthur whispered against Alfred's neck, inhaling his scent that smelt of a soothing combination of husky worn leather and fresh coffee. "Promise me, we'll see each other again. Swear to me". Alfred ducked his head into Arthur's hair, reaching up a caressing hand to cradle the back of it.

"I swear to you," He breathed into Arthur's golden locks, lingering a second or two longer to crave the feeling of holding Arthur's body against his own into his memory. Pausing to take a final breath of that endearing lavender, herbal smell "and besides," He quirked as he pulled away so that sky blue eyes could meet Forrest green, "it's Christmas tomorrow and I promised we'd spend it together. There's no way in hell I'm missing the sight of you in a paper crown" That drew a barking laugh from Arthur as he dislodged himself Alfred and, looked towards the entrance hall with foreboding thoughts.

"I should go, Allistor will have a fit if I stall any longer. Until our next meeting" Arthur called back as he began to jog into the compacted hall, looking over his shoulder to wave back to Alfred before he disappeared from sight. With Alfred's promise fluttering in his chest, Arthur sprinted on past the counter flowing soldiers to where his brother and fellow sorcerer waited.

* * *

These two sweethearts, they kill me. So we take a look at both sides prepping for war, Ludwig and Natasha acting as relative commanders. I found the first scene most difficult to write, having all these characters ( some which I'm not very famailiar with writing) with differing interests, motives and personalities was tricky. I would ask that you excuse any characters who act wildly out of character, I am doing my best. Super excited for the next one, I hope you are ready for some fight scenes :)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this series and would like to see it continue, then please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	17. Chapter 17 - To Duel a Deadman

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 17 for you all! I apologise for not updating last Sunday, this is a particularly long tricky chapter that has demanded alot of attention. Fortunately the school holidays are here so hopefully chapters will be coming in thick and fast. A quick shout of to a lovely new reviewer by the name of Chiisaioni, who has gone a reviewing rummage on this series. I'm just like to say thank you for your feedback and I always appreciate hearing you amazing people. Keep your voices coming in! I wish you all a merry Christmas and I present the new chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, Outside the Royal Palace, The war readied Entrance Courtyard

Alfred Jones gazed longingly at Arthur as he fled out from sight into the Entrance hall. Gods, he wished he had stolen a kiss before they had parted. Just a quick one before they had pulled away. It would of be perfect, a romantic farewell before he, the hero, marches off into battle. Then after it was over they'd meet and share another, long and sweet. Alfred almost sighed, but instead shook his head as he grimly remembered where he was. Thoughts of luxury were death on the battlefield, and Alfred couldn't afford to be distracted with the lives of his comrades at stake. He turned away and looked off down the now-not-so-far road with the approaching Imperial troops. They marched in a long rectangular formation, with the men at the front and sidelines carrying clear riot shields. The enemy drew near in silence, the only sound was the intimidating pounding of their black combat boots against the icy stone path.

Over in the hectic courtyard, Ludwig had managed to station everyone with guns aimed. His arm held out in the sign to wait for his signal. The flurried air that rained down was cold and thick, difficult to swallow. Adrenaline had ignited inside the men's blood as they waited for their General to release them from their nerve wrecking tension. A few of the younger soldiers' hands trembled as they tried to steady their aim, the barrels of their guns wavering slightly.

They were scared, of course they were, Alfred thought pitifully as he unslung his shot gun off his back. Young or old, all the men here were scared. It didn't matter if you were a total novice or the most experienced in the world, in the heat of battle, nothing is certain. Any morals you had about killing had to be discarded when it was kill or be killed; that was just the way it was. Alfred had seen fellow soldiers fall, had become hardened to it, and now, he expected it. He'd seen war, seen the death and the blood and the sweat of it. Oh Alfred knew war too well, knew that it wasn't about who held the moral high ground; it was about who was left at the end.

"Take aim!," Alfred heard Ludwig shout over the rhythmic stamping, bringing his arm up. The cocking off the safety locks on the guns was heard upon their commander's word. Alfred raised his own gun, cracked open the base of the double barrels and slipped the ammunition from his belt in, snapping the barrels and fore end up to load the weapon. The enemy was now less then ten metres away now and closing. Alfred raised his break action shot gun to eye level and took a deep breath in through his nose. His focus narrowed and sharpened onto a peeking small space between two riot shields. Target acquired, Alfred thought as his lips curled into a smile.

"On my mark!," Ludwig called as he raised his hand above his head "ready…," Alfred slowly exhaled through his mouth, releasing the tension that would sway his aim.

"Let's motherfuckin' do this" Alfred growled as he hissed out the last of his slow breath and distantly heard Ludwig's signal to fire, the gunshot booms drowning out his bold declaration.

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Back of the connected Entrance-Main hall

The first shots of gunfire whipped Arthur's head back to the sealed Entrance hall doors, crackling explosions emitting from unseen sources. The English man skidded to a halt and turned around, instantly regretting leaving Alfred behind. "I should of stayed", Arthur thought as he kicked himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet ready to run back when he was abruptly halted.

"Don't ye even think about it" His brother's rough voice echoed from back of the Main hall, threatening enough to freeze Arthur solid. When Arthur turned back around, his fear was replaced with a brief amused smirk at the sight. His elder brother was slumped down on the King's grand wooden throne, his head lolled down against the back board as his arms hung wide over the armrests limp and relaxed; the symbol of boredom and impatience. By the throne's side, Lukas stood with a shaking head and his arms folded with silent disapproval. Arthur raised his thick brows as he strode forward to meet his kin, his boots clopping against the polished boarded floor.

"I wasn't aware our services are so exclusive" Arthur spoke with dripping sarcasm as he stopped centre of the cavernous hall and waited for the already walking Lukas and Allistor to reach him. Allistor had donned the signature 'Kirkland' green cloak while Lukas had opted for a stormy grey one of simmering material.

"They are when we have a more important job ta do," Allistor curtly returned from about a metre away. "And so what is tha plan? disarm all tha guns out there and give our side a fightin' chance" He continued, pointing over to the thick double doors. Arthur looked to Lukas as if to share his disbelief, before he embarrassingly remembered that Lukas couldn't see his face. He snapped his head back to Allistor.

"Disarm? So Telepathy then?," Arthur snorted doubtfully "bollocks! Not even the three of us could pull that off!"

"That's why we don't use telepathy" Lukas jumped in, built up excitement ringing clear within his usually soft, quiet voice.

"Aye! Instead, we cast a charm. By burning these," Allistor pulled out and held up a small vial of dull metal fillings "fillings taken from tha metal that all guns are made from. With this we can cause all tha guns in that yard ta burn like forge pokers" Arthur scoffed, ripped off his spell book from his hip and flipped it open. His brow furrowed when he saw no such charm recorded, even Allistor's journal pages held no merit.

"This is even possible Allistor? There's no record of any such charm in here" Arthur reasoned, gesturing to his spell book glossary. Allistor waved off his brother's concern with a smug air about him.

"No fear. I've been doing more up here then drinking tha nights away, laddie. It wouldn't be in ya book because Lukas and I formulated it on this god forsaken glacier" Allistor announced proudly as he threw a triumphant smile to Lukas, who must as felt equally proud as he knowingly returned the expression. Arthur snapped his book shut and gruffly replaced it in it's harness, trying to quell the unfair jealousy that bit him. Allistor had never even tried to create new spells with him!

To mask his disappointment with humour, Arthur let out a low pitched whistle and took exaggerated steps backwards, putting distance between them."Well if you don't mind then, I'm going to step back a few". Lukas laughed softly at the reaction though it earned him a disapproving glare from Allistor. With a waving motion of his hand, Allistor gave Arthur a telepathic push from behind, pushing him nearly onto his face as he was forced to stumble forward.

"Bloody git," Arthur muttered as he rejoined the triangle and threw up his arms "Fine! Take charge because I don't have a bloody clue". Allistor grinned and turned to Lukas.

"Lukas, would ya burn tha circle," Allistor politely asked, Lukas nodded in response and dropped to place his hand against the boarded floor. The smell of burning polluted the air and a thin trail of smoke rose as the ashen magic circle slowly burnt itself the wood. "Arthur," Allistor continued "activate tha trinity sigil; ya Courage, I am Power an' Lukas is wisdom"

Arthur nodded and raised his palm, and with a quick flick of the fingers, activated the sigil. The sigil appeared over the circle as a large triangle made up of three smaller connected ones, all beaming a radiant gold colour upwards. It allowed their magic to be safely conducted down into magic circle and acted as an absorber for any negative feedback from the spell. The roles Allistor had assigned Arthur and Lukas connected to the points of the triangle, one of it rules being that the three roles must be appropriately filled for the sigil to work. In the past all sorcerers strode to exhibit all three admirable qualities, having been taught at a young age that that was what the best sorcerers were; courageous, wise and powerful.

As Arthur and Lukas walked into their places, Allistor stood centre of the circle and carefully tipped the metal fillings out. Finished, he tossed the vial away and took the remaining high point of the triangle as Power. "Tha charm's ready, all we hav' ta do is channel in tha energy for it" Allistor explained over the rushing sound of the magic beginning, the energy throbbing air around them spiralling and encircling them. Together the three Sorcerers raised their palms and focused, imagining their mana flowing downwards into the sigil below them. There was a crackle and an explosion as the metal at the centre popped and burst into high purple flames. It remained burning when the spinning wind died back down and the sigil vanished in a dimming golden light.

Arthur took a deep breath in and bent over to ride the wave of fatigue that came over him, he had forgotten how exhausting charms could be. He straightened up and was about to ask if it had worked when he realised, the gunfire had stopped. He had been ready to cheer when he faintly heard the first ear tearing scream, many others joining in on the horrible song. Arthur looked to Allistor who's lips were pulled into a tight line.

"You knew?," Arthur sickeningly asked, his panicked thoughts jumping to Alfred who had been carrying so many guns. Guns that had scolded on contact. Allistor looked over and nodded without a word, Lukas remained silent and nervously rubbed his hands together. Of course the two of them knew, always the scholars. "I'm coming to check on our side" Arthur started as he stepped forward and strode quickly for the double doors. His angry brother's shout came after him.

"Arthur, get back here before I drag ya!" Allistor snarled menacingly, raising the hairs in the back of Arthur's neck. But Arthur kept walking, he needed to know. Behind him Allistor clenched his jaw and mentally reached out to yank Arthur back, when he was interrupted. The entrance doors were flung wide with a BANG! and a horde of wounded rebel men limped in as if death itself were on their heels. Pure terror etched onto their poor faces. Over the river of heads, Arthur could catch only scratches of the battle outside; his breath caught when he saw a sandy gold flash darted across. Confident Allistor would not be able to follow, Arthur pushed forward through the river of soldiers and strained his neck to get a better view. He squeezed through before he was stopped by the sight of a beaten and bloodied Ludwig. The general had an ugly gnash from shoulder to shoulder and he clutched his blood soaked side where a black handled knife hilt had burrowed deep inside. Caked in mud, blood and sweat, Ludwig staggered into the hall and clumsily leaned his battered body against door.

"Ludwig!," Arthur yelled over the hysteria of the hall "What's happening?" Ludwig shook his head before doubling over coughing, tiny droplets of blood splattered against the floor.

"The guns, they burnt like fire. We had the advantage in close combat, but..," Ludwig trailed off and bit the inside of his cheek as he winced against his pain. He opened his clouded steel blue eyes and fixed them onto Arthur, a glint of desperation lay in them "They have sorcerers, Arthur, four of them". Arthur's eyes grew wide and his pupils shrink. It was impossible, the Empire killed the Sorcerers…didn't they? Arthur's head whirled and his tongue became thick with fear.

"Alfred. Is Alfred and Kiku still out there?" Arthur panicked as he grabbed Ludwig's arm and shook it, frantic for an answer. Ludwig hissed at the contact on his wounded shoulder but looked down before regrettably meeting Arthur's eyes, he nodded slowly. Arthur released Ludwig's arm and looked at the man, his heart threatening to leap from his throat. Four sorcerers against half their forces, and Alfred. Arthur looked back for his brother, seeing his brother's red head attempt to slowly push his way to him, green eyes met and locked. The two brothers stared at each other, knowing each other too well to try and guess what was running through the other's heads. "I'm sorry" Arthur mouthed to his only brother before he turned and threw himself outside.

The immediate cold hit him like a fist and knocked the air out of him, Arthur gasped wildly to reclaim his oxygen as he tried to scanned the ruined courtyard for Alfred. Directly in front of him, the front lines had been pushed back and now stood only five metres away from the entrance hall doors. The men yelled and cried as they remained strong against the waves of enemies, the imperial soldiers forever seeking for the weakness in the formation. A row of sandbags was behind the fighting men and few of the troops trembled and cowered behind them, their faces bloodless and pale with tints of green. Arthur moved away from the sturdy doors as to gain a wider view of the yard. What he saw made his heart jump up into his throat as he forgot how to breathe.

Alfred and Kiku were charging toward three stationary men... No, not men; three monsters. The devilish hulk at the centre sneered as Alfred and Kiku rushed to them, his jarred split face curled. The two hooded figures remained neutral and still, seemingly uninterested in two war crying warriors. Fear clawed from within Arthur's rib cage as he choked on nothing and threw himself forward, bounding towards the sandbag wall and vaulted himself over. He soared over the allied men's heads and as he came to land , he swung his feet forwards and crunched them into an enemy's chest. The imperial men cursed as Arthur broke their steady advance, the nearest soldiers reached out to grab him only to have twin surprise hidden blades thrust into their necks. They dropped like stones when Arthur yanked his blood coated blades out and continued to hurtle forward in haste. Arthur's breach caused the rebels to surge forward with renewed energy and began to actually make progress as they pushed back. But Arthur didn't look back, his eyes were fixed ahead to the losing battle. They fought bravely, and they fought hard. They played every strength and used every card but no matter what Alfred and Kiku did, they could not wound the man-monster. The Deadman bellowed with amusement as Alfred and Kiku circled and ducked and dodged about him, laughing how little their best efforts achieved.

"No!, please no!" Arthur silently screamed as he saw the hulk suddenly snap his arm out and grab Kiku's sword arm, he twisted it and a sickening snap echoed. Kiku screamed as he knees buckled and tried to uselessly jerked his broken arm out of the man's grasp. Alfred shrieked and slashed out in retaliation, only to be ruthlessly backhanded away, his body span as it was launched in Arthur's direction. Arthur slammed his heel into the ground and crudely rolled out of Alfred's flight trajectory as the American painfully collided with the hard iced ground and slid a distance, a thin trail of blood in his wake. As he ran, Arthur called upon his magic within and groaned as it shot through him like an accelerated adrenaline shot. His blood boiled with his dangerously low mana, his fist curled and burst into blistering flames. The rippling crackle of the manifestation of his magic diverted the monsters attention onto him, Arthur too caught up in his attack to think it odd that they smiled when they saw him, shot his arm forward and flung his fireball aimed for the arm that held Kiku.

"Kiku!" Arthur shouted as he reached out and closed his telepathic grip onto Kiku, yanking with all his strength and ripped the agent free from the hulk's loosened grip; loosened the moment he had seen his target. Arthur held his arms out and pulled Kiku to him the moment the explosive fireball made contact. The flames briefly embraced itself around the huge forearm, before it combusted into a mini sun.

The impact quaked the ground and the fire was blinding to look at. The tremors sent out a bone rumbling shock wave throughout the yard, blasting Arthur and Kiku off their feet and onto their backs. The hulk roared with agony as he and his henchmen scattered, his arm, now a bloody stump at the elbow. Blood spurted and gushed where the jagged end of bone peeked out of flesh. Ringing deafening his ear drums, Arthur was the first to raise and uneasily got to his feet as his eyes did not stray from the unmoving monsters. At his feet Kiku gasped and hissed through his tightened teeth as he clutched his broken arm, reaching out to cling to Arthur as he shakily rose. Taking in heavy pants as fatigue took its toll over his remaining adrenaline, Arthur looked at Kiku with distracted wild eyes.

"Are you alright?" Arthur managed between breaths, swiping away the sweat that glistened on his clammy forehead. Kiku nodded and gave a small swollen lipped smile, he must of bit the inside of his cheek as his usually white teeth were stained red. Arthur saw his thin black brows draw together before he raised his good hand and pointed to Alfred, who had not moved since being thrown. Arthur felt a new surge of worry bolt through him and, after being certain Kiku could stand on his own, ran to Alfred's side and tenderly turned him over. As Arthur inspected Alfred injuries at a closer range, the sight caused Arthur's bile to jump in his stomach.

Alfred was in worse shape then Kiku, much worse. Beneath his cracked glasses, a horrid large purple black eye bloomed against the angry red swollen skin. His nose had been broken from the fall and a thick river of blood streamed down onto his upper lip and chin, his mouth slack and gaped open. Arthur slumped to his knees and hovered his head over Alfred's mouth, near crying with relief when he heard a raspy, rattling breath wheeze within.

"Oh thank gods. Thank you, thank you," Arthur softly sang as he cradled Alfred onto his lap and rocked in time with his prayers before he attempted to wake his friend. "Alfred? Alfred! Wake up Alfred, you need to wake. You swore to me, you promised we'd spend this stupid holiday together. Alfred, it's not safe here!" Arthur demanded as he lightly but insistently patted the unbeaten side of Alfred's raised face. After what felt like too long, bruised eyelids groggily fluttered open and his breath hitched out of rhythm as Alfred Jones stubbornly returned to world of the living.

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Oooohhh, I literally cannot wait for the next chapter, the one where shit literally hits the fan and the truth comes out. I am so excited, I hope you have fastened your seat belts. I'm kicking this story up another gear ;)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story and wish for it to long continue, then please consider leaving a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions. I always look forward to your reviews. Once again thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	18. Chapter 18 - Awakening

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 18 and, this is it. The big reveal. The thing I have been hinting and nudging towards this entire story. I can't wait for you all to read it. Thank you all the lovely reviewers who posted last chapter, you are the reason this chapter came up so quickly.

To reviewer Secret Paradox 25, I hasn't offended by your comment, actually quite flattered that you really want to see more of the story :D

Alright, I present to thee, the next chapter,

Enjoy! (And hold on to your butts)

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Entrance Courtyard.

Arthur. Arthur was the first thing Alfred Jones saw when his brain finally decided to work again. Those darkly framed emerald rock pools, with their tumbling pulsing veins of gold bore down into Alfred as if they looked into his soul. Alfred felt at peace as he looked up at the man he had fallen for, happy to remain in the moment forever. However reality soon reclaimed him and blew away that sweet bliss. Pain erupted from his very bones and Alfred felt his stomach churn at the thick salty tasting liquid that filled his mouth. When he tried to lift his upper body, his entire frame screamed at him to stop and go back to resting. But Alfred was stubborn and with the gentle pressure on his lower back, managed to raised himself into a sitting position.

Arthur was knelt beside him with Kiku behind him, the two of them looking relieved to his eyes open again. Impossibly through all his pain, Alfred gave them a forced smile which turned genuine when Arthur leaned close and affectionately pressed his forehead against his own. A gesture that Alfred knew Arthur shared only with those most precious to him, the thought made him glow. The two held the intimate moment, heart beating in time as they embraced each other with yearning security. As Arthur lingered before he slowly pulled away, Alfred meet his spring eyes and opened his mouth to speak when a bloodcurdling meaty bellow bounced towards them. Arthur snapped his head up, moved as to let Kiku support Alfred and silently stepped forward to stand in front of the injured men. The giant of a man's laugh lowered to a snicker before he spoke in a sandpaper course voice.

"Well, well. Green eyes? Caterpillar brows? Arthur Kirkland, you are quite the welcomed sight' the Deadman grinned as his hungry graze did not stop lavishing the sight of its prey. The two hooded figures on either side of the hulk known as Long John, shifted and became restless; eager to finish their mission and be done.

"These must be the sorcerers Ludwig was speaking of…though I do not see the fourth," Arthur stressed to himself as his eyes darted behind them to look for the fourth member. Worry gnawed at his insides over the missing sorcerer, Arthur narrowed his eyes as he resumed them on the leader. "And you are very much a unwelcome one"

Long John smirked and tutted his sausage finger at the Brit, making a disapproving noise with his tongue. "Oh ho dear Arthur, I hope you won't be this aggressive on the trip back. It'll make it very unpleasant it will" Arthur paled and subconsciously shrank back away from the Deadmen, a chill running down his spine.

"Trip back?"

"Aye boy, the Emperor himself has expressed a personal interest in seeing the last Kirkland. It was the whole reason why this assault was organised" Long John cackled as he saw the draining effect it took on Arthur, his shoulders slumped and his pupils diluted with grief and fear.

"You bombed innocent people in the town…," Arthur began in a barely restrained tense voice that continued to swell until it burst "You slaughter our men as if they were pigs. And now, and now you claim it was all in my name?!," He shrieked as he ripped out two throwing knives out of his gauntlets and brandished them at the Deadmen.

Long John boomed that ear scratching laugh of his again but to lowered himself into a charging position, aware that their little talk was drawing to a finite close. "What? Don't like the fact that all these deaths are on your head?". That did it. Arthur snarled, actually _snarled_ , and threw himself at three Deadmen. As he sprinted nearer, the two hooded figures sprang forward with a accelerated glide; intending to flank him. Arthur saw the threat and as the two reached out to grab him, jumped, gracefully twisting his body midair and sent his throwing knives flying at them. The knives hit true into the two's shoulders with a dull thud, the pair split and darted a distance away to recover. Arthur roughly landed and was forced to bend backwards as huge fist whistled past his jaw. Long John grunted as he missed, his off balanced reach now passing uselessly over Arthur's head. Arthur remained low and activated his hidden blade, ready to gut the fiend when he was snapped backwards. He yelled as his torso was pulled on and dragged backwards towards the two hooded figures with their extended hands.

Desperate, Arthur waved his hand out behind him and managed to dislodge on of the cloaked men, wavering the telepathic hold on him. He dropped to the ground and launched himself out the way of the incoming hammer fist from Long John. The fist smashed against the hard ice and cracked it like thickened glass. Arthur scrambled out the way with his back to Alfred and Kiku, shoulders heaving with exhaustion as he heavily panted. Hell's bells, they were strong. He could barely dodge one without worrying about the next attack. At this rate he would be run down and overwhelmed. He needed to end the fight before they decided to drag Alfred and Kiku back into it.

With another adrenaline pulse from his magic, Arthur swooped low and threw up a heap of fallen snow into the air. Using his magic, they hung suspended by invisible strings as Arthur hardened them into ice and aligned them like a row of bullets. With a wide sweep of his arms, his lethal ice bullets shot out towards his opponents. The Deadmen had time to barely bring up their arms to protect their faces and chests before they were peppered, the sharp glasslike projectiles drilling, cutting and slicing into their skin and nicking blood. They gasped at the unwanted invasion of pain on their bodies and Long John pierced Arthur with his crazed blood shot eyes. The thrill of a victory made Arthur grow in confidence, that maybe he could take these beasts that couldn't use elaborate spells like he could. Foolishly allowing cockiness to sway him, Arthur cunningly grinned back at the furious Long John.

"Ready to lose the other one?" Arthur teased as he pulled out two more knives and gestured to the Deadman's other remaining arm as he stalked closer. Long John gritted his teeth, hissing through his clenched jaw as his robes began to soak with his red water.

"Go to hell" He cursed, bent over flinching as pain raked over him. Arthur dropped his façade, a cold void expression now on his face.

"You first" He promised as he lunged with dual flashing blades. He swung down on the Deadman's remaining arm, the sharpened edge calling for blood. Then he felt something slam into him with the force of a Iron bear. Arthur was thrown off his feet and sent soaring backwards, smacking down and skidding against slippery ice yard. His back reignited its sweltering fever and Arthur whimpered as it mixed with his already existing agony. For a second his body simply refused to move, choosing to try and absorb and register the pain that it had inflicted on it. But Arthur's mind had a better plan, immediately pouring mana to hasten his healing factor. There was the familiar buzz and the powerful shot of mana pounded through the veins as the healing kicked in, knitting broken skin back together and smoothing the frayed nerves that screamed in protest. Arthur moaned as the buzz numbed out the pain enough so that he could move, the feeling of his frazzled nerves slowly returning to him after their damage had been repaired. Reaching up to where he had been struck, Arthur grimaced as his fingers touched something cold and smooth. A icicle about the length of his arm had embedded itself into his shoulder and was beginning to melt, soaking him in water as well as his own blood. Clenching his jaw, Arthur tightened his grip and yanked the icicle out, letting out a drawn out anguish cry. The pain didn't last long as hole in his shoulder began to feel scratchy and his healing rapidly grew a new layer of skin to cover the wound and sewed together the torn veins inside. Arthur gasped as the process finished, feeling with satisfaction the new baby soft skin as he forced himself to his unsteady feet and looked over to glare at his attacker.

But when Arthur looked there weren't three figures anymore, but five. And the two new comers, unfortunately, Arthur recognised too well.

"Hello again Arthur" Natasha purred as she waved as though they were friends, her smile never leaving her lips as she surveyed Arthur's scrunched up face.

"Natasha," Arthur spat, venom poisoned his eyes as he focused on the man behind "and Popscu to" Vladimir Popscu gulped and didn't bring himself to meet Arthur's blaming stare. Natasha gripped Popscu by his arm, digging her nails in tightly.

"Think yourself lucky you didn't kill him, imbecile. Make one mistake like that again and I promise that your death with be a nice, long one," She hissed and turned spritely back to Arthur as if nothing were wrong. "Now where were we?"

"You were explaining why the Emperor wants me oh so desperately" Arthur hopefully tried as he steeled himself, biting his lip as his safe mana was scrapping the bottom of the well and world mana had began to pour in. If he wasn't careful, he'd accidentally tap into the world mana and release a spell he couldn't control. Natasha pouted her pale lips and shook her head in a thoughtful, dramatic way.

"No Arthur, I think we were leaving together before you got yourself permanently damaged. After all I can't present a broken present to my brother, can I?" Arthur felt his lip curl at the metaphor and glanced behind him to Kiku and Alfred, the pair listening with enraged expressions on their faces. Quick as a whip, Arthur jumped backwards so he stood protectively in front of his friends and looked over his shoulder to them.

"You two need to run and get Allistor. I won't be able to fight all of them alone" Arthur gingerly admitted as he kept his vision fixed on the enemy. Seeing reason, Kiku nodded and sprinted faster then expected back to the Entrance hall, disappearing into the chaotic fighting mass. Alfred clumsily stumbled to his feet and placed a large hand on Arthur's trembling shoulder.

"You must think I'm a idiot if I'm going leaving you behind" Alfred barely managed to speak with his messed up face, his nose still at the crooked angle. Though those sky blue eyes hadn't lost their determined glint as they met with Arthur's.

"I think you an idiot for staying when you can barely stand," Arthur returned curtly as he felt the air shift and tensed, sensing the two hooded Deadmen move before he saw them. The two moved like the wind and rushed at Arthur and Alfred, an ambrush from different sides. Weighed down with Alfred wounded, Arthur pushed his friend's head down and snapped his arms out on either side. Twin torrents of fire gushed out from either hand. The spiralling flames would of bathed the Deadmen in their fiery glory had they not dodged at the last second. Having thwarted the ambush, Arthur almost allowed himself to breathe when he alarmingly felt the pull of a telepathic grip his chest that violently tugged him towards Vlad and Natasha. Arthur grunted as he hit the ground, a fair distance now stood between him and Alfred. If he didn't make it back, Alfred would be unprotected against magic he couldn't fight. Arthur tried to move but found himself immobile, his body frozen by the four telepathic minds that held him in place. Arthur strained his muscles to obey, feeling only the tiniest resistance as he battered his own telepathy against his opponents.

Suddenly the pressure lifted and Arthur felt himself lunge forward upon release, he turned and saw that it had been Alfred that released him, having distracted a Deadman by moving to attack him. Not wanting to fall into the same trap, Arthur sprinted for Vlad as his hidden blades unsheathed themselves from his wrists, hungry to avenge Dylan and Seamus. Vlad squeaked terrified and Natasha moved to block Arthur's path, raising her knife to deflect Arthur's blades. The metal weapons rang as they clashed again and again against each other, Arthur holding the advantage of dual wielding. He spun and tried to throw Natasha off with the flashy movement when, out of nowhere, he felt something grabbed him by the throat and nearly snap it with its force. Behind him, Long John had his thick beefy fingers wrapped tightly around his fragile windpipe, Arthur's legs kicked out uselessly as he was lifted into the air. He gasped for oxygen that was sealed off from him, his vision sporting black spots in the corners.

"Don't kill him!," Natasha shrilled with legit fear, though the Deadman didn't move to obey "Long John! He's to be brought alive!" The deadman smirked and cocked his head as he brought Arthur's face close to his. His breath stank of bitter blood.

"Don't that make you feel special, eh? Alive. Don't kill him. You're a lucky one, Arthur. Any other bastard who would blew up me arm would be already six feet under" His grimace sprayed spit onto Arthur's face as he squirmed and tried to pry the thick suffocating fingers off him. Long John laughed and slammed Arthur down by the neck against the hard ground, bashing his head on the cobbles. Arthur groaned as he felt his face be shoved down and his forehead split open, causing hot blood ran down into his eye and prayed his healing factor had healed his possible concussion before any serious damage was done. Around him, Alfred fought to get closer but was slowly losing ground as the two other Deadmen had him dangerously ducking and diving to avoid being hit. A distance away Vlad was building a vibrating bolt of plasma in his palm to finish Alfred off with. Arthur lifted his head and jerked when he saw Vlad begin forming the base of a plasma bomb, the sorcerer's eyes fixed onto the struggling American. Arthur's back and shoulder rash rippled and burnt as he struggled to free himself from Long John.

The situation was dire. Arthur fought down the scream that built in his throat as the fire on his back escalated, feeling his skin crack and warm red liquid began running down his quivering smooth back. As Arthur's hysteria grew, the pounding in his head took over all other sounds as it felt like something was convulsing inside his very skull. Bright lights began to flash in and out of his vision until he saw only white, blinding white. His frantic heart hammered inside his rib cage as Arthur felt that his whole body was just one humming being. The beating sped up, racing, building until Arthur didn't hear the pause between the beats anymore. Internally Arthur shrieked and clutched his head that felt like it would explode like the Deadman's arm he had blown off. White, and the god awful ringing, was all Arthur was. His mind turned on itself, fighting, biting, tearing. And then the thing that Allistor had seen so long ago; the thing he had spent his whole life suppressing, woke up.

* * *

Arthur's Mindscape, Unknown, Unknown

The thing, the entity if it were, surfaced of its sealed corner of the mind, out onto its aquatic mindscape. It breathed, it spread out. It saw it's other half, a helpless thing, lie still with limbs twitching on its side on the disturbed water's surface. It looked so fragile. It needed to rest, repair itself. Slowly, slowly the entity gently lifted and submerged it's other human half. Watched it peacefully drift downwards into the murky deep. If it could, the entity would feel regret that for one to be in control, the other must be suppressed. It was the consequence of keeping the two of them separate: only one of them could have the body at a time. But the entity would never feel the emotion of regret as it had no need for it, or any emotions of that sort. It had no humanity. With his human half out of commission, he was now the one in control. The entity knew and understood its nature. It lived by it's code, by it's Grace granted to it by it's mother's blood. It was a celestial being of the mother goddess Gaia, yet bound to human form. Impossibly, a hybrid that had sprang the loins of both man and sentient being. The perfect child of the two races born from the blood of the Earth goddess.

For too long had it had been remained anonymous, incomplete within its own nature. There would come a time when the two halves would talk face to face. Understand just what they were, and accept it. However now was not the time for words, now was the time for action.

* * *

The truth has always been out there...

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you would like to see this series long continue, the please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. I _always_ appreciate the feedback.

 **A WILD PREWRITTEN CHAPTER has appeared!** It's returned, and this time, it's personal. For a mere **TEN** reviews, I will post the next chapter the moment the tenth review comes 's correct, you can find out the next nail biting chapter early with only **TEN** reviews

Until next time folks...


	19. Chapter 19 - Angelic

Hetalia – The Cold of War

Chapter 19 and Merry Christmas Everyone! You actually did it, 10 reviews on one chapter. It's a christmas miracle :D As my present to all of you, I give you the next chapter in this tale;

Enjoy!

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The battle ridden Entrance courtyard

Alfred Jones couldn't fathom what had just happened. One moment he had been rushing towards Arthur pinned down, his face screwed up in pain. And then, without warning, Alfred was wholly blinded as a column of holy light that erupted down from the heavens. The dazzling light engulfed Arthur, crashed down and rumbled violent tremors throughout the stupefied yard. A shockwave boomed and flung everyone away from the column. Alfred cried as he was knocked down by the blast of air and skidded away. There was now a clear radius around the light with it's human audience staring with frantically beating hearts. Tiny minds that couldn't comprehend the event that defied their misguided concept of logic. The bacon spun and whipped the harsh air into a snowy blizzard, the spiralling flakes replaced the pure white light as it dissolved into oblivion. There was complete silence, even the faint background noise of the warring men had fallen. Alfred lowered his raised hand he had thrown up to shield his eyes from the flurried snow and felt his body lock up in terror when the snow died enough to see clearly.

Arthur was lying exactly where Long John had held him. Exactly the same place in the exact same position, exactly was the same; save for the enormous gleaming pair of white wings that had sprouted from his bloody bare back. The feathery wings stood skyward as bright as the light they had appeared in, too brazen to even peek at. Beneath them there was a stirring movement and Arthur propped up his arm to raise himself up. He lifted his head and when he opened his eyes, instead of the familiar spring green irises, a solid, unwavering blue-White light had consumed his eyes. The air hummed like a powerful generator, the very space itself electrified with energy. When Alfred would think back on the event, he would never forget those chilling eyes. Those foreign, _alien_ eyes that held no trace of humanity. So cold, so uncaring, they did not understand nor care for mercy and kindness. He would never truly shake away the haunting image of the being that wore Arthur's face; the clawing despair of seeing the one he loved lost beyond his help.

The air continued to vibrate as Arthur, unsteady as a newborn, raised himself awkwardly to his feet. His mighty wings shook and folded tightly at his back as the new weak muscles that controlled them shook with effort. The angelic being blinked and scanned it's surrounding with minimal interest, a vacant expression on it's unchanging face. It's bored graze settled on one of the Deadmen that had drawn a wicked knife, the flash of the unsheathed blade winked as its wielder idiotically dashed forward… What happened next was too fast for eyes to follow.

 _ **Crunch!**_

The phrase 'Blink and you miss it' had never been truer. Alfred's dull human eyes tried follow the blurred action and when they came to rest, Arthur was already beside the attacking hooded Deadman; pulling his buried arm out of the gored chest with a still beating heart clenched inside his bloodied fist. He ripped it out with a snap and raised the ugly pulsating organ to see his face, as though to inspect it more closely. Horror frosted the yard, petrified of this cruel thing that looked like Arthur Kirkland. The silence did not linger long. Exploiting the opportunity, Long John barrelled forward towards Arthur, the villain's hand curled into a tight fist. Even as his attacker approached, Arthur stood still with his head cocked slightly to the side; looking almost curious to see what would happen next. Alfred raised himself into a crouching position and flung out a hand in warning "Arthur look out!".

Arthur turned his ominous glowing eyes to Alfred just as Long John swung and his fist connected. The hammer fist smashed into Arthur and launched him into one of the bordering stone walkway columns. The column groaned with a cloud of dust and the roof way it held crumbled and collapsed down onto the Angel. "Arthur!" Alfred blurted as his friend was buried, Long John bellowing over Alfred's distress, his small greedy eyes pinpointed to where Arthur had fallen.

"Bah! You see, he ain't nothing! All bark an' no bite" The Deadman scoffed to Natasha and Vlad as he shook his only hand out, the hand's large knuckles painted red where the skin had been gnashed off. Alone with no allies left, Alfred felt an indivisible noose nauseatingly settle around his neck. He was the only one left against the Imperials; Kiku had gone to get help, and Arthur, hell Alfred didn't even know what to believe about him anymore. What he had seen made no sense, even by sorcery's bizarre standards. His world had been rattled, it's core of stability founded on the basis of reality shaken. He was in shock, Alfred knew he was and still his body seized up; the muscles paralysed and quivered as adrenaline continued flood through them. His survival instinct to flee clashed with the burning need to help Arthur, the stalemate served only to infuriate Alfred as he internally struggled with himself. Back in reality, Alfred cringed as he felt the stares of the enemy sinisterly slide onto him. The noose tightened and become suffocatingly tight. He was beaten and bruised, his whole face ached. He couldn't do this on his own. Alfred bit his lip in frustrated grief, hating himself for not being stronger. He didn't have the strength to fight his way out, he was going to die. Despaired with his impending demise, Alfred closed his eyes and sent his grasping prayers of aid to the heavens.

And aid came in the blazing form of Allistor Kirkland. The Scot tore towards the gathered, dual tomahawks gleamed as their wielder pulled a arm back and lobbed it forward. The whistling axe whipped past Alfred's ear and embedded itself the skull of the remaining hooded Deadman with a sickening crunch of bone. Allistor didn't even spare the corpse a glance as it fell; his hawk focus fixed on the hulk. Long John spun to meet the threat but was too slow as Allistor skidded down onto the ice and carved a deep slash into his leg with a brutal hagged hack. The thigh slit open to the bone like a teeth less mouth and violently vomited blood. The Deadman fell to his good knee and howled his torment to the clouded darkening sky. Continuing the assault, Allistor slid away and as he spotted Vlad, grinned like the Cheshire Cat. He launched himself to his feet and hit the ground running as his target panicked to scramble out the way.

"Allistor! Please no! No, you don't understand!" Vlad wailed as Allistor shot at him like a blood hound out for the hunt. Allistor swiftly closed the distance between them and raised his weapon, no questions, no stalling; he was taking his revenge for Seamus and Dylan _now_. But Lady luck was smiling on Vlad as Allistor swung early and overshot. Allistor grunted as he followed up on the missed blow, using the momentum swing his other arm down and around to pound his elbow against exposed Vlad's nose. The sharpest bone crunched against its target with a satisfying crack, followed by a screeching scream. Blinded and clutching his broken dripping nose, Vlad wildly shot out a telepathic push with a swipe of his hand and managed clipped Allistor on the shoulder, spiralling him back towards Alfred. The eldest Kirkland tumbled and managed to regain his balance with a crude handspring as he came towards the ground, impressively agile as he sprang up ready for more.

"Where is Artie?," Allistor panted over his shoulder to the dazed Alfred, a line forming between his thick brows when he didn't answer immediately. "Oi! Where is Arthur?,". Alfred gulped and shakily pointed over to where Arthur had fallen, the feathery wings could just be glimpsed beneath the grey stone debris. Allistor visibly paled and squared his jaw at the sight, the panic and fear for his brother twisted his stomach into knots "Take Arthur an' get ta cover. Leave tha rest ta me". Alfred nodded and climbed to his feet, his face and crooked nose aching as he rose and waited for his opening. Allistor, now entrusted with the task of stalling both sorcerers, gritted his teeth and fixed his predator's eye onto his prey. Missing an arm and leaning heavily in his left leg, Long John eyed Allistor with his scarred lips pulled back over his cracked lips to bear his teeth like an animal.

Allistor flourished his axe expertly before he pointed it at Long John in a display of challenge "So ya be tha slimy bastard that's been tossin' ma wee brother about, eh?" Long John's beady eyes grew wide for a split second before they narrowed.

"Brother? Ho, there are two of you now?," The Deadman puzzled before he looked back to Natasha, who had been taking refuge between a piece of cover "What does this change?"

"Nothing!," She called back, her eyes darting between to where Arthur was and Allistor "We extract Arthur Kirkland and retreat back to the Capital. That is our unchangeable objective. Kill the two and be done so we may leave" Long John scoffed and sulked back to the impatiently waiting Allistor. The space between them seemingly filled and pregnant as snow rushed and whipped around them.

"Hear that? Sounds like we won't have very long to play to together friend" He smiled as he began to limp to the side, Allistor moved so he mirrored his movements and they circled one another. Two enter the ring, one leaves.

"T'was never an issue, _friend_. With you, I won't need long," Allistor came back, a cunning smile playing on his confident face. Long Joh hissed at the insult but made no move to attack, unnerving Allistor as he tried to keep both sorcerers in his line of sight. He was stalling, he'd wait until Sunny boy had got Arthur out the way before unleashing a blizzard onto them; swipe them out in one fell swoop.

"Enlighten me Kirkland. Do you to have wings like Angel boy over there? Are you a heavenly servant of the gods? How blessed he is" Long John jabbed, gleeful at Allistor's immediate furious expression.

"You. Know. nothing" Allistor hissed through clenched teeth, his hands trembling and shoulders shaking. Disappointed in himself for being so easily baited. The scales that had been Allistor's favour, had now tipped into Long John's court.

"I wonder what His Majesty will do to him when he gets his hands on him. Torture for rebel information? Experimentation? Or perhaps…," and Long John purred the last part "He fancies the idea of having the Angel all to himself, for _personal_ desires". Allistor snapped and roared as he sprang at the Deadman, his Greek fire eyes flashing for blood. Long John smirked and side stepped as Allistor lashed out with the tomahawk in one hand and activated hidden blade in the other. The two spun and weaved away and toward each other, the focus so completely on their own lethal dance that no one noticed Alfred silently slip by.

Alfred skimmed along the edge of the yard until he came to the collapsed roof way on top of Arthur, hesitant to look into those awful eyes again. The rubble was broke into large pieces and Alfred could spot a glimmer of gold between two of the largest sections. Although his gut screamed at him to turn and run, Alfred cautiously crouched down and moved his cut, scratched hands to begin clearing the rubble off Arthur.

"Arthur? Arthur, Arthur can you hear me?," Alfred frantically repeated, drawing nearer and nearer to the thing that was not Arthur. Just being near the winged being made all his hairs stand on end but Alfred continued to move pieces, sighing with relief when he finally uncovered Arthur's whole body; noting how odd it was that only bruises that blossomed on the slightly glowing skin. Alfred leaned down with his head near Arthur's to reassure him he was near.

"It's okay buddy, I'm gonna get you outta here. Just let me lift yo-!" But Alfred never finished what he was saying as a steel hand clamped down over his neck and dug its fingers into his fragile vocal cords.

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OOOooh no. So excited to have for the Battle Royale next, it's going to be rough, it's going to be dirty, it's going to be...'fun' ;)

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story and wish for it to long continue, then please take the time to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions in a review. I always look forward to your feedback, they motivate me so much to keep posting up this content for you. Once again thank you for reading and merry Christmas! As always,

Until next time folks!


	20. Chapter 20 - By an Angel's Grace

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 20 and boy is this a chapter and a half. Probably my favourite chapter so far of this series, I hope you survive until the end.

Question time!

Secret Paradox 25 asks: Is Arthur an Angel? Does that mean he's a hybrid?

Yes, Arthur is a hybrid of born his angelic mother and his human father; Gisil Kirkland. Both species that were born from the Goddess Gaia. I cannot wait to tell the story of how he came to be, it's quite the tale.

NihonBara asks: What kind of feedback do you want?

Hey NihonBara, as I have stated in the past I always adore hearing feedback from you about my work. Honestly I am happy with whatever feedback you are willing to give, be it purely positive or otherwise. If there is a glaring issue that you see in my style, punctuation or grammar, I'd much prefer you to point it out to me so that I may improve on it rather then keep fuddling away like a novice. Every artist wants to improve and I am no different. If you can suggest ways to help me improve, great! please tell me and I'll take it into stride as I work to better my skills and hopeful make the content you read all the more enjoyable.

And finally, a general comment on the overwhelmingly positive feedback on the last few fight scenes:

Ha! Thank you all so much for your support, your encouragement and reviews are the reason I continue to write.

And now, the next chapter

Enjoy...

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Entrance Courtyard

With the distant clashing noises of Allistor and Long John's brawl, the rebel youth Alfred Jones writhed as his neck was slowly crushed. The Angel's hand clamped overpoweringly around his windpipe and rose as the being climbed to its feet, it's mouth pulled into a vicious snarl. Alfred whimpered and statically jerked to free himself, painful tears pricking his eyes as he gasped for air.

"Arthur…please" Alfred wheezed as Arthur bore down upon him with eyes that burnt of malice.. No words but undisguised raw rage directed onto the undeserving Alfred. The deathly grip only tightened as the rebel tried to reason with the unreasonable. Alfred spluttered and gasped as blackening blots began to take over his hazy vision, his oxygen deprived brain beginning to shut down.

With the last of his draining strength, Alfred reached out and delicately cupped Arthur's cheek with a trembling hand "Arthur…" He breathed out as his hand fell and his eyes rolled up into his head as Alfred Jones faded into darkness. The American slumped in the Angel's smothering grip, his head lolled back as his whole body fell limp like a rag doll.

Something connected inside the being as it held the sandy haired human, a stirring disturbance from deep within it's mindscape that stayed it's hand from snapping the human's spine. The being stared at the human's damaged face, strangely feeling its own face soften as the view filled it with some warm glow that did it not understand. But the sentimental moment could not last as the Angel remembered itself and flung the human's body away from it, faintly hearing it heavily bounce and skid away across the ice coated yard. The human did not get up. The Angel turned it's blazing eyes to the fight ahead and watched with slight interest as the crimson haired one danced around the giant.

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Allistor Kirkland cursed as he narrowly avoided Long John's grab with a rough duck, the beefy hand breezing against his dark green cloak. The Deadman smirked as Allistor fell for the faint, the sorcerer crying out he felt the forgotten Vlad telepathically push him back into Long John's range. Allistor didn't have time to dodge when Long John threw his forehead forward and crunched it against his nose, as he had formerly done to Vlad. Allistor's head snapped back from the force, too dazed to dodge the follow up punch that pounded him to the ground. With his healing factor buzzing to repair the damage, Allistor felt the wind be knocked out of him as his exposed abdomen was unforgivably stomped on. Long John sneering as he dung his heel into Allistor's soft exposed stomach, the Scot winded and pinned.

"Now where was that fighting spirit I saw before? Honestly, how disappointing. It seems the legends of the Kirklands were just exaggerated fables" Long John taunted as he applied further pressure, drawing out an extended groan of pain. Through clenched teeth, Allistor glared at Long John and pooled his salvia to spit at the former sorcerer, the shot accurately hitting its target square between the eyes. Long John roared and raised his weighty fist to bring it crashing down when something hurtled into his side and dragged him down with it as they rolled away. He felt his back smack down against the hard earth as something crouched above him, something with mighty wings that stretched for the skies. The being glowered down at the Deadman, its fingers daggers as it drove them down, aimed for the heart. Long John threw his hands up and caught the Angel's waists, completely entrapping them and halting the incoming lethal blow. The two pushed against each other, locked in a toiling battle of strength. Shifting his hips, Long John pulled the being down and used the movement to roll himself on top; the Angel now beneath scowling up at him. Enthralled by his victory Long John forced its waists down on either side of it's golden head, leaning up and down its body with a twisted look of admiration.

"Look at you. Ain't you impressive, I can see why he would be so desperate to have you" The Deadman hummed as his graze raked down the struggling Angel as it glared daggers back. Long John tightened his hold and was about to begin pulling when he was forced to threw himself sideways to avoid the axe swing that would of taken his head. Allistor Kirkland charged over the angelic being, twirled his axe to his opposite hand and slashed up; barely managing to nick the skin off his target's chest.

The Deadman growled as he moved to dart away, aiming his telepathic push for Allistor's legs when he felt a hand snap out and catch his wounded leg. He snarled as pain rippled up his limb, Allistor grinning as he now had a stationary easy target. As he rushed for another cut, Long John lent out the way and, in the same movement, spun and snatched the being's waist off his foot. He twisted his body and catapulted the Angel into Allistor, the Scot dashing right to avoid being hit by his brother's flailing wings. The thrown Angel skimmed across the ice before it rightened itself and, with the agility of a cat, swerved onto all fours as it slid away. As it slowed to a stop, the being tensed its leg muscles and sprang itself back into the fray.

The Deadman sensed his end approaching as the Angel and Allistor charged at him, dual murderous intent drumming from their fiery intense auras. As the Angel approached, Long John ducked to avoid its crushing hands, and his heart hammered as he saw Allistor shoot towards him with his axe raised to lob off his injured leg. Long John was cornered, these two were going to slaughter him like a wounded animal with their tag team act. But, the Deadman promised himself, the hell if he wasn't going without a fight. With difficulty, Long John hopped out of Allistor's direction and readied to punch the sorcerer when he was within range; hoping to at least knock the cocky bastard's teeth out.

But it was Allistor's turn to use a trick as he ran his hand along the the yard's slippery surface while he glided, the pinching ice melting to water at his touch. He slammed his heel down, using the leverage to sharply pivot himself as he whipped the melted water up with his arm.

When Arthur had used the spell, he had transformed the water droplets into tiny bullet like projectiles to fire at the enemy. As Allistor invoked the same spell, he bound the water molecules in the crude shape of a lance as he spun and slugged the magically formed weapon at the Deadman. The ice lance shrilled as it was propelled into Long John's damaged leg, the hulk screamed and fell to one knee as the sharp tip buried into bone. The beast nearly downed, the Angel with a powerful downward flap of it's wings, propelled itself onto Long John's huge back. It clambered up so that it rode upon the hulk's wide shoulders, clamping it's knees on either side of the base of the thick neck. Long John snarled and shook in a frenzy in attempts to dislodge the winged being, but to no avail as the divine grabbed his head with clawing hands and yanked it back so their eyes met.

Now Allistor felt no love for these former men, despised them even. But what Allistor saw haunted him long after as he saw the reason why his father warned him to never allow Arthur's Grace to awaken. No one, not even the Emperor himself, deserved the cruel fate that befell Long John Silver.

The last thing the damned man would ever see was the blinding face of the Angel-Human hybrid. The angelic being bore it's eyes lit with holy light into Long John's as it slowly opened its mouth; an identical light building inside. Against his will, the Deadman found his own mouth was now gaping wide as though in a terrified silent scream. The air between them cracked with the primeval zenith of an Angel's Grace as the being unleashed it's omnipotent force. It burst out in the form of blistering white beams from the Angel's flaming mouth and eyes, radiating down Long John's throat. The Grace incinerated the human from the inside out; it's divine brilliance obliterating all organic matter. Not even the most sacred and pure element of a child of Gaia, the Soul, survived the sanctified obliteration.

For a second too long the total executed of the Deadman lasted, the silence persisted long after the body lifelessly collapsed and the Angel sluggishly pushed itself off; the glow that shone from it's skin flickering as it staggered away from the burnt corpse. It wobbled and stumbled as it gave its wings a few weak flaps to balance itself. Flecks of dirt, blood and snow dirtied the pure white feathers.

Shakily, Allistor Kirkland took a step toward his brother with his arms held out in caution "Arthur? Artie?…Brother?" He tried as he hesitantly drew closer. The being swung it's head around to face the human that dared approach it and tried to draw itself up to it's full height, spreading it's wings threateningly to appear larger. But the weak display was almost immediately dropped as the Angel's glow flashed a final time before it vanished. Arthur's lids closed over their shining eyes as their light dimmed and faded. Arthur hobbled one last time before slumping forward facedown, the fresh snow crunching as he fell the ground; his wings spread out over him like a shelter. In an instant, Allistor rushed forward to help his brother, relief and fear flooding his mind as he raced towards Arthur. From roughly a metre away, Allistor invoked his magic and softly began chanting a reviving spell, so focused that he did not sense the thrown metal binding net until it was already upon him. The hefty snare enclosed and wrapped around Allistor, it's crushing weight dragging the Scot skidding past the unconscious Angel. Allistor growled as he struggled under the magically bound trap, unable to move and unable to reach his distant magic. His furious eyes snapped to the one that had thrown the net, narrowing on Vlad those hands were held out unsteadily. Natasha stood triumphantly by his side with a new squadron of Imperial soldiers from their ship by her side.

"Well done Vlad. I didn't think you had it in you," Natasha mused as her smile curled, playfully walking her fingers across Vlad's quivering shoulders before turning to her new troops "Restrain the Angel and place it inside the hull. We withdraw immediately". Five troops moved forward on command, one carrying a long length of chain which was used to bind the Arthur's waists and wings. A sleigh pulled by reindeer was brought forth and the five Imperials heaved and strapped the limp body onto it.

As he helplessly watched his brother be taken away, Allistor jerked and bucked and redoubled his efforts of resistance "Vlad. Do not do this," Allistor threatened in a quiet rage "See this through an' there will be no dark corner on this Earth that will hide you from me". Shame and guilt contorted Vlad's face as he failed to meet the sorcerer's eyes, hanging his strawberry blonde head.

"Allistor… you have to know that I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to betray you, anyone. He made me, Allistor, you don't understand!," Vlad blurted out as his panic began to seize in his voice, the confession spilling uncontrollably from his mouth as he sobbed "He took it, he took my _Name"._

Allistor's mouth fell open, a unexpected wave of sickened pity and horror surged inside him for Vlad Popescu; the man only moments ago he had yearned to kill. Everyone, without exception, was born with two or more names; one being the given name that is bestowed at birth by fellow humans and the other being the person's true Name, their Name of power. The Name _was_ them, it defined their very self: their nature, their strengths and even their flaws. It was something that most would blissfully never know throughout their lives, with only the exceptional being able to discover it. Allistor felt his lips turn dry as he thought of the idea of someone knowing his own Name, and the horror of it chilled him to the core. It was too repulsive to even consider it could ever become a reality. So much worse then violating a person's open consciousness, for to know another's Name, was to have total domination over that person in heart, mind and body. To learn that the Emperor had the means to unwillingly extract one's Name, that if he held that power and Arthur was delivered to his feet… Allistor froze and shook with terror at the vision. He raised his wavering eyes to the sight of his brother disappearing out of sight in the clutches of the enemy, and he painfully bit the inside of his cheek to stop the tears that threatened to spill.

"Ma'am, the prisoner has been successively boarded. Your orders?" A deep voice echoed from across the seemingly empty yard, the voice belonging to a Imperial soldier as Allistor returned his eyes back to Natasha; the bitch had began to walk toward him with a smug smile across her pink-blue lips. She stopped and crouched down to one knee, pitifully observing Allistor like the caged animal he was.

"You know, it was never a question of whether you could keep him from us, but of how long," Natasha whispered to Allistor with the softness of a mother speaking to her child "My Brother will not be denied anything in this world, for it his to take…Farewell first born son of Kirkland, take comfort in the knowledge that your departure from this life will be a swift one". And with those parting words, Natasha reached down for Allistor's befallen axe; her fingers tightening around the helve as she raised it high above her head. A pregnant pause held the air was Natasha gave Allistor one last look before she brought the axe down to his head.

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Allistor, you fought well.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If this story series is to your liking and you wish for it to long continue, then please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. I suspect there will be a few raised questions after this. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks...


	21. Chapter 21 - Scream in the Empty Night

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 21! Ha, I can only apologise for the long delay, school has been busy with university application and the like. While I would love to continue pumping this story out, over the next two-three weeks or so I will be having mock exams so it will be extremely unlikely any new content will be posted within that time frame. Fear not though! For after that horrid period passes, I'll be back in action, just perhaps a little slower then before. Anyway, thank you all who reviewed as always, you guys are the reason I keep coming back. And without further ado, the next chapter!

Enjoy!

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The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Entrance Courtyard.

Pinned down to the dirty ice coated cobbles under a crushing metal net, Allistor Kirkland waited for the bite of his own backstabbing steel. Waited with teeth on edge for it to cleave through his head and dash his brains out so that the crimson mess would splatter against the too innocent snow. In front of where he lay, Natasha raised the hefty tomahawk and, as any good executioner would, slung it down without hesitant nor mercy. It's slice vibrated through the air and it's death whistle shilled. It was the end for Allistor Kirkland, the man who had once been the proud unwavering pillar of strength to his Brothers. In his darkest hour despair toiled and ultimately reigned, and so, Allistor closed his eyes and waited. But then,

Fate!

Natasha abruptly screamed as a crossbow bolt impaled itself into her raised arm, the hesitant axe slipped out of her grip and clattered loudly to the ground as she spastically recoiled . She stumbled back and was immediately enveloped by her guards, the black armoured men protectively covering her as she limped away back to the road to the whirring warsships.

"All men retreat, we fall back now!" She shrilly commanded as she was ushered away, the bolt lodged in her arm had began to drip tiny droplets of blood in at trail after her. Allistor struggled to turn his head to the crossbow wielder and glimpsed the rebel general himself, more colour in his cheeks then when he had passed him on his way here. With his mental and emotional state a wreck, Allistor's distracted eyes missed the blur that shot past him and only just heard Vlad cry out. The blur was a small asian man; a look of cold determination flashing in his dark eyes as he closed in on Vlad before he had a chance to run. The frantic sorcerer, with a yelp wildly threw an inexperienced punch in a weak attempt to stay the speedster, but the attacker was already upon him. The man smoothly caught Vlad's punch and pulled the arm out straight, before he snapped the elbow up with a sharp strike upwards. The sorcerer shrieked as his arm broke and the Asian one spun and kicked the soft section behind his knees, forcing Vlad to kneel. The man whipped out a knife from his belt as he snaked his other arm around Vlad's windpipe, pressing the point of the blade threateningly to his temple. As the Imperial soldiers disappeared from sight in the blizzard back to their ship, Ludwig strode forward with shoulders back and jaw squared; dark strains blotted his crinkled olive green uniform.

"Are there more? Was this the only assault garrison deployed?" He interrogated as he pressed the crossbow's loaded bolt tip into Vlad's quivering neck as the prisoner gulped and frantically shook his strawberry blonde head.

"There's no more. There was the only squadron, I promise. Only one". Ludwig cocked his head as he observed the shivering man. Behind him more surviving rebels filtered towards them from across the blood patched yard.

"They brought you here as a sorcerer, and yet they don't seem concerned about leaving you behind" Ludwig mused and a line formed between Vlad's brows.

"They have something much more valuable then a sorcerer" He dejected with a small shake of his head, as though he actually pitied the man he had assisted capturing. There was a pregnant pause as the blood chilling truth of the loss settled on the men's minds; with Arthur and a third of their numbers gone, the strength of the Rebel now seemed feeble. The Imperial's assault had left the North with scars that would never heal. Ludwig only shook his head with a set jaw he motioned for the prisoner to the brought as he turned and headed back to the palace, a glint of something sinister in his eye. With a grunt that drew the attention of passing northern soldiers to come help, Allistor managed to lift himself to one knee as the hefty chain net was slowly pulled off him. Once free, Allistor numbly scanned the yard; his empty eyes settled on the limb body of the American Arthur had taken to. As the rebels came into the yard to clean up the wounded and dead, Allistor clumsily heaved over to the still youth. Another wave of misery rolled over him as he saw what his little brother had done.

The boy's neck was a blistered bloody red, and where Arthur had clearly strangled him, the black-purple bruised impression of a hand sickeningly bloomed. Allistor cautiously crouched above the gaping chapped mouth and listened for a sign of life. When he felt no breath on his ear, Allistor looked for the life force flame and took a sharp inhale of breath when he saw it was but an ember; the boy nearly dead. The surge of the magic-adrenaline shot through Allistor's veins as he invoked his magic and firmly pressed his hands against Alfred's unmoving chest. He fought with himself as he forced his healing factor to transfer into the foreign body before it. The Scot weakened as his healing factor temporarily flooded into it's new host, the chest jumped as though it had been electrically shocked and the boy's faintly beating heart thundered . Knowing that at least Alfred would survive the empty night, Allistor roughly lurched out the way as a cotton stretcher was brought forward and the American loaded and taken away. The Scot huffed as they went and felt his leaded limbs wobble in exhaustion, already feeling the draining effects of his absent healing factor. Gods, he didn't care who it was for, he was _never_ doing that again. Little puffs of snow caught in his jade eyes as Allistor looked to the Imperial airships that faded away into the grey snow clouds; Arthur bound and alone on one of them.

But Allistor didn't trust himself to think of his brother. The thought threatened to paralyse him as he stood. Even as he deliberately avoid it, his resolve quivered like a bow string strung too tight as he was barely able to hold himself together with a kind of nervous tension, shaky and unstable. With the slightest disturbance and he'd fracture.

A touch on his arm caused Allistor to turn and spied Lukas at his elbow, the fellow sorcerer's dismayed eyes bouncing from the blood patterned yard to the Deadman corpses and then back to Allistor's dulled ones.

"I came as soon as I sensed the light. Allistor, that power… that was not of this Earth. What _was_ that? Where is Arthur?" Lukas trailed off as he saw the typhoon of pain surge behind Allistor's eyes, eyes that looked shattered beyond broken "He- he can't be, Arthur, they- he's gone?" Allistor didn't find the strength to even left his head in a nod. Lukas grasped his heart as he huffed over the titanic weight of the loss, his paled hands shaking uncontrollably as sorrow and guilt consumed him. Unable to stop the torturous thoughts of 'What if?; what if I still had my eyes? would I have been able to save them?'. Even as the inward storm raged inside his skull, Lukas put on his brave face as he practically moved to support Allistor, allowing him to heavily lean his weight onto him as they staggered to join the flowing current of rebels into the Entrance hall.

"They took him," Allistor whispered as they slowly trudged inside the hurting palace "His Grace, that tha old man an' I worked ta keep sealed, woke up. He's- Arthur's, no longer fully human". The Entrance hall was cramped and stank of blood and sweaty men, many of which were laid down in packed rows on top of dirty cloths. Red faced physicians feverishly darted about and scrambled from patient to patient, arms overloaded with bandages and bottles of alcohol to disinfect wounds. The air was stuffy and hectic with no clear direction and the King and his right man were worryingly nowhere in sight. Lukas blunderingly dragged Allistor over to an empty bench where Allistor heavily slumped down and dropped his head into his hands. Concerned to get on with Allistor's medical examination, Lukas unclasped Allistor's cloak off him and pulled his tunic top over his head before he began; wincing when he saw the purple bruises that decorated Allistor's ribs and stomach.

"Gods have mercy. I suspected something unnatural because of the oddity in his life force flame, but I never thought. The mere idea of it is inconceivable at best. What have you done to yourself Allistor, why hasn't this healed already?" Lukas questioned as he prodded Allistor's battered ribs before he pressed his warm glowing palms to the damage and focused on healing the internal bleeding.

"They took him, they'll get his Name," Allistor hollowly continued, lost in his own shock "He'll be on the Emperor's leash forever an' I'll be powerless ta do anything. I've failed; I failed as a sorcerer to protect one of our own, I failed as a son to keep his father's one wish and, I failed as a brother…". The eldest Kirkland stopped and clenched his hands into tight fists, strands of autumn red hair painfully pulled taunt in their grasp. "I don't have tha right ta carry tha name-"

"You have the only right" Lukas firmly interrupted, his voice overbearingly strong compared to Allistor's trembling one, the wise aged voice spoke the truest of advice. "There is no one more worthy. Do not think yourself weak Allistor, there is no dishonour in bearing a bleeding heart. Let us move away from the wounded, then we may mourn in peace" Allistor didn't look up when Lukas rose to his feet and began to lead him away. Neither said a word when they travelled down into the deepest, darkest, most private chambers below the Nordic Kingdom. It was after Lukas guided him to a small circular room and closed the creaky door, that Allistor Kirkland crumpled to his knees after concealing the hurt for so long and wrapped his shuddering arms around himself; trying to hold his quaking frame together.

He howled and cursed and wept, and then did the whole bloody thing all over again in the vicious cycle. His hammering heart clenched and fought against him as he tried to raise himself off his front, only to find his strength had also betrayed him. He managed to lift his head before it gave up and thudded back down, the pain rattling his brain inside his skull. Allistor rose again as saw that there was a resulting red smudge now. A spark, a cruel sense of control crept into his manic mind. He did it again, intentionally this time, and found the pain easier then the loss of his brother. Again, again and again until Allistor lost count how many times he slammed his bleeding forehead against the hard stone. Resilient until whatever minimal power he had left to fled him, dirty traitors that abandoned him and left him alone to his nightmarish reflections.

* * *

Oh Allistor... Yeah so Allistor didn't die! I honestly don't think I could bring myself to kill off one of my favourite characters, he's too fun to write for. Not much plot advancement but rather feeling the aftermath of the battle. The North remembers ;). So the next chapter I plan to write is going to be fun, checking in our little bound Angel, look forward to it.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this series and wish to see it long continue, then please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Any writing criticism is welcomed, of course I want to improve and it'll make reading my content more enjoyable for you to. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	22. Chapter 22 - Warning from Above

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 22! And we are back my people, ready and kicking to get the ball rolling again. I'd like to thank the reviewers of the last chapter: Dangara2610, Chiisaioni, Willow Leaves and SecretParadox Hatsuki. Despite the lack of overall action you still took the time to review and that is amazing, a big thank you to you all!

Question Time:

SecretParadox Hatsuki asks: Are they going to save Arthur?

Sorry but unfortunately, spoilers! Of course the rebel alliance want to rescue Arthur, though for individual reasons; Ludwig and the King for military strength, for without Arthur they lose his and Allistor's support meaning they have no sorcerers able to capably fight. I can only say to wait and see what happens to our bushy browed hero.

An' to all I present thee the next chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

Alfred Jone's Mindscape, Unknown, Somewhere warm?

"Alfred? Come now, don't pretend you're asleep. We both know that you snore like a walrus when you do, sleepy head" A familiar voice faded in, prompting the young rebel to crack open his azul eyes only to immediately squint them against the intruding sunlight that harshly assaulted them. Alfred groaned as his vision slowly adjusted to the intense brightness before being able to survey his mysterious surroundings. He was laying in a colourful meadow of wildflowers; splays of blue cornflowers, white daisies and red poppies swayed with green blades of long sweet grass. Cheerful chirps of song birds and the faint buzzing of insects resonated throughout the spacious meadow with perfumed air that held a haze like quality to it. Alfred awed at the beauty of his natural setting before he looked up to the voice that had awoken him and felt his heart lurch at the sight.

Arthur was crouching above him on all fours, silhouetted by the glorious midday sunlight. Unmistakeable with his golden halo of hair and those intelligent captivating eyes that never ceased to fasciate. A casual loose shirt hung off his thin lean frame and the ends of his brown trouser bracers had been rolled up to the calf revealing bare feet. The image was almost more natural then the meadow Alfred lay in, the display so honestly genuine that it made Alfred wish Arthur was always this free with himself. No gigantic feathered wings, no scary glowing eyes that didn't belong; simply Arthur as himself.

In past Arthur had compared Alfred to the Sun itself with associations of earthly health and wholeheartedness, and when Alfred looked at Arthur he saw the most intriguing, interesting, most perfectly flawed person alive. It wasn't just Arthur's bewitching appearance that Alfred craved for, it was his unquenchable amount of depth he had to his character. True, sometimes his personality sometimes sucked and he could be way too rude and sarcastic, but Arthur was this layered, complex being that Alfred pined to understand. So incredibly skilled and loftily unique that quietly, Alfred feared that someone as ordinary as himself would never be able to compare; the prospect not unlike falling in love with a star, one-sided and unbearably unrequited. He ached to cast aside the defensive emotional barriers Arthur erected to keep people from getting too close, and yearned to stand accepted alongside him as an righteous equal. Alfred hungrily drank in the vision before him like a man starved, grazing deep into the beautiful emerald rock pools that were laced with veins of tumbling gold.

"Arthur" Alfred breathed as he hesitantly reached up a hand to cradle Arthur's blushed cheek, his palm warm as the blond sorcerer easily leaned into the affectionate touch. Alfred would have been content to simply remain there, would it have not been for the gut wrenching memories that resurfaced from the corners of his mind; casting him back to the blood quenched courtyard. His aqua blue eyes pricked with tears as he remembered the last grief stricken time he saw his dearest one. Clarity forlornly settled upon him. "This is a dream" He grieved with a tremulous voice full of heartache, the throbbing love organ twitched painfully inside his tight chest. The cruel paradox ironic to Alfred as to imagine Arthur safe and happy before him while the real Arthur's fate was distressingly unknown. The dream Arthur only adoringly smiled down at Alfred and parted his lips as he leaned in to close the distance between them, his sweet breath hot on Alfred's tear trailed face.

"Then it is a good dream" Arthur hushed as he tenderly sealed the narrow space between them, tilting his head as he kissed Alfred with infinite softness. Alfred felt his damp eyes slide shut as he as he felt his grief and torments pushed down, and lost himself in the emotional moment. And though Alfred shortly allowed himself a moment to imagine what their first kiss would feel like, he knew it was wrong to relish in false pleasure. If he was going to kiss Arthur, he was going to when Arthur was safe and ready to. With a small grumble, Alfred broke off their intimate prayer and gently pushed Arthur back so that their eyes met.

"Any other time, I would of happily stayed in a dream like this. But right now when I have no clue about what happened, I can't do this, even if it's in my head. It feels…wrong," Alfred reluctantly admitted, annoyed at himself for being so morally inclined to be the hero. "You, or Matt, or even Allistor could be badly hurt and I'd be here, ignoring them. I can't stay, not when you might need me out in the real world". Arthur's thickly dark blond brows drew together and as cocked his head slightly to the side inquisitively, when something shifted behind his eyes. The warm dreamlike haze was abruptly replaced with sterile chilled air, Alfred's head became clearer and sharper as the dream was banished. Now not a dream, but a vision, Arthur's eyes emptied and turned glassy like a doll before hardening and darkened as if a stranger was looking through them. A transformation from familiar, to vacant, to foreign. The image of Arthur pinned Alfred with a glare.

"You would deny him? When you fear that you may never have the opportunity again?" The dream Arthur challenged as he clambered off Alfred and brushed the grass off his clothes, the accent dropped along with the act. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the imposter.

"Yeah, a hero puts his friends before himself and does the right thing. Now explain to me who the hell you are and why you're decided to krunk up my dream"

The dream Arthur scoffed at Alfred "Oh such noble ideals _and_ a tough guy, really makes me blush. As to my name, that's not important. I'm merely the middle man delivering a message from the Boss, so listen up punk," He hissed. "The Boss ain't happy how close you and Arthur Kirkland are getting, if you catch my drift. Saying that you're messing up his plans for him and his homeboy"

Alfred felt that he had been slapped in the face by the bullshit fish. He had no idea that the guy who had looked like Arthur was blabbing on about. "You totally lost me dude. Boss? Plans?"

The dream Arthur shook his head in despair, "Gods, he told me you weren't the brightest but I didn't think you'd be this slow. Okay muscles, I'll put it in a layman's four words: Back. Off. From. Arthur. Like I said, the Boss says you're getting too close and ruining the match he's already set up for his favourites. I mean, no offence, but the guy Arthur's meant to be with is just so much _better_ then you. Boss even refers to him as his 'protege' he's so experienced and understanding of the topic love,". Alfred's blood boiled as he listened to the pretentious prick lecture him. The only sense he had managed grasp from the one-sided conversation was that someone didn't want him romantically advancing on Arthur, and the hell if he was in the mood to add this onto his growing list of problems."So get it? You and Arthur have had some touching moments together, had some quaint banter, blah blah blah. But that all stops now you hear?".

"Oh yeah? And who is this big bad 'Boss' you keep yapping about? Thinks he's some hot shot big deal that can tell me how to live my life?" Alfred cockily smirked as the dream Arthur gave a loud offended gasp.

"Big deal? Big Deal! He's only Lord Eros, the very God of Love, the only driving force of humanity on this dusty mud patch. If he wasn't at the helm, then you humans would have died out long ago!" The dream Arthur squawked like an outraged parrot. Alfred raised his hand and gave an exaggerated dramatic yawn, pleased the performance ignited further anger in the dream Arthur's eyes.

"Whatever man. I don't give an ass scratch about your boss or his plans. I've got enough on my plate to worry about with the War and my best friend being some kind of Angel. I'll worry about your boss when I actually work up the energy to give a damn".

The dream Arthur bristled before he looked up and cocked his head to the side in the impression that he was listening to something quiet. He remained in the pose before reclining his head and narrowed his eyes at the youth, "You're lucky the boss wants to keep you around to hike up the romantic drama, otherwise you'd be a bloody splatter in a bed right now. Don't think you've gotten a free pass outta this mess. The boss is gonna be working overtime to make sure Arthur falls for who he is meant to, so if you think you have even an _ember_ of a chance, guess again" The dream Arthur growled before he turned and began to walk, his image beginning to sway and fade the further he got. In the freezing meadow of flowers, Alfred stood alone to his disorganised thoughts.

"Alfred" A new voice faded in, different from the one that had first called to him. It called again, louder and clearer, "Alfred?". Then the meadow splintered and cracked into nothing.

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, Infirmary Ward

"Alfred!" A jolted spasm jerked him awake as he was yanked from his dream, hissing sharply when the action shot sparks of pain through his recovering ribs. Alfred Jones had returned to the mortal plane.

"Ow, fuck, ow" Alfred cursed as he shallowly panted to control the spiking pain, before finding to his surprise that it had disappeared as quickly as it had came. A hand roughly grabbed his own and enclosed it in a tight vice grip strong enough to crush his recovering hand bones.

"Oh thank gods Al you're awake," Matt's voice rung out relieved roughly to Alfred's left, the exact position unclear when the American's vision was blurred without his glasses "Thank you, thank you. I believe now, I believe in you Gaia". Alfred cringed and huffed as he sat himself up on what he assumed was a bed, sinking slightly into the plush mattress as he rubbed the sleep from his crusted eyes.

"Where am I?" Alfred thickly mumbled as he straightened up and shivered from the cool air that slapped against his bare goose-bumped skin when the thick covers fell off him. Vaguely he could make out indistinct white movements move about in the fuzzy room and could hear distorted fragments of conversation. His visitor, a floating blond bob to him, made a reaching motion and the comforting shape and weight of his glasses was pressed into his hand. The morning sunshine lit room bounced into focus as Alfred returned them to the bridge of his nose and his blue eyes immediately darted to his bedside brother for answers. Matthew looked rough sat sloughed over on a metal stool, with a large plaster across his cheek and butterfly stitched cut on his chin. There were dark bags under his clouded violet eyes and his skin lacked the signature rosy colour of health, the shaggy blond waves had been loosely pulled back into a ponytail. He looked more then rough, he looked beaten down.

"You're in the Palace Al, Infirmary ward. You were messed up bad when you were brought in. Bruised black and blue, bleeding heavily. The physicians say that your heart stopped a couple of times, but it just restarted itself as if by magic," Matt grimly reported as he folded his bruised arms across each other. "Everyone thought you weren't going to make it, I thought you were going to make it" He whispered guiltily with lowered eyes to the floor. Alfred ran his hand through his messy hair as he reflected on Matt's bleak words, not sure how to comfort him without stating the obvious fact that he wasn't dead. He thought back on the bizarre dream but made up his mind to talk to Arthur or Lukas about it later, who were probably revised on mythology then Matt.

"How many hours have I been out?" He asked instead hoping to divert from morbid 'what could have been' thoughts. Matthew's free bangs swayed as he sadly shook his head.

"Not hours Al, days. You've been out for three days straight". It was then Alfred's turn to shake his own head but instead in disbelief.

"Wow. Gee, no wonder I feel so stiff" He remarked as he wriggled his toes and swung one leg off the steel posted bed, followed by the other to Matt's objection.

"Al, stop. You need to take it easy. You've been bed ridden this entire time, just slow down!" Matthew feebly protested as he rose out of his stool to push Alfred back down, unsuccessful as Alfred unsteadily lurched to his feet and stumbled to find his legs.

"No can do bro. I need to find out the deal with Arthur and those weird wings of his, alongside what happened after he knocked me out. Plus I've got some other questions for him and stuff" Alfred grinned confidently as his bare feet padded against the cold flagstone floor past the distracted nurses towards the crowded Infirmary's door. When no reply came, Alfred stopped and looked back to his brother questioningly. Matthew stood with fists clenched on either side of his waist, his lip bitten pale as he struggled to meet Alfred's interrogating stare.

"Alfred…Arthur isn't here. No one except Allistor knows the full story of what happened in the yard and Ludwig is strictly keeping all related information classified. All I managed to get was that the Emperor's right hand took Arthur prisoner and that, by now, they've probably arrived at the Capital" Matthew meekly explained, his voice quivered as he saw his brother's shoulders begin to tremble. Alfred felt his body turn to lead as he fought against the tsunami of guilt and grief, the turmoil nauseatingly unbalancing him. The promise he had made Arthur, that they would come back to each other, echoed tauntingly in his ears.

"Arthur's-…fuc-. Prisoner?," Alfred managed as he swayed rooted on the spot "And I've been out for three-… Oh hell, he's in the Capital. I- I need to talk to Allistor, learn what happened" He suddenly decided as he spun on his heels and sprinted for the door, about to shove it open when the engraved wooden barrier gave way; the blind sorcerer Lukas standing in the way, a concerned expression on his sad face.

"It is a comfort to see you awake again young Jones, to me and to Allistor" Lukas sighed as he reached and took Alfred's sweaty hand, giving it a well meant squeeze before releasing it. Alfred shakily rubbed his hand as it was given back to him, the question of why Lukas had come to see him and where Allistor was troublingly bubbled on his already troubled mind.

"Arthur" Alfred uttered and watched as the sorcerer's face crumple with shame, his bottom lip quivering as he replied.

"Yes, I know. We, Allistor and I, must speak with you about the matter, alone" Lukas muttered as he began to lead Alfred out the door, only to be stopped when Matthew moved to block their advance.

"I'm sorry but I can't allow that, not after what Alfred's been through. He needs more rest, look at him," Matthew argued as he gestured to Alfred's half naked form and wobbling legs. "He's not fit to go trekking off into the wilderness to find someone who refuses to cooperate when we are trying to help him".

A line creased on Lukas' forehead as he frowned at the younger man and stepped forward in an aggressive matter "Allistor's behaviour is more then understandable considering that he is in mourning for Arthur. You've only had a glimpse of the pain of losing a brother, whom of which, would not be alive if not for Allistor. He is out there alone, wandering aimlessly in Iron Bear territory and is very vulnerable, being in no mind to defend himself," Lukas retaliated with bitterness, "now the one thing that Allistor asked of me before he left, was to take Alfred to him. And that's exactly what I intend to do".

Matthew looked prepared to square off with the sorcerer when Alfred stepped between the two and placed a hand on each shoulder to smoother the brewing ugly fight. "Let's just take a chill pill guys and cool it down a notch. I agree with Matt here, there's no way I can just get up and go…without preparation. If I'm going to make any rescue plans, I _need_ to know what happened and Allistor's the only one who can tell me. Lukas, lemme get some gear together and then I'll meet you at the city gates in about an hour". His brother looked at him with betrayal and then steeled determination.

"Well, then Alfred, if there's nothing else I can say to change your mind, then I'm coming to" Matthew resolved as he folded his arms again and fixed Alfred with his sternest look, making it clear this was the only compromise on the table. Thrown off by the unusual aggressive behaviour from his bro, Alfred pleadingly looked to Lukas, who gritted his teeth before he gave a curt single nod.

"Fine, but do not blame me if Allistor doesn't take this well," He yielded before smiling faintly, "though on the other hand I must admit that having another will make the journey smoother. I'll meet the two of you in an hour outside the city gates then, where I'll tell you inform you on the ways of the Iron Bear's as we set off. Oh! And bring plenty of food and water, we'll be travelling back with Allistor so pack enough for five going both ways" Lukas called back with a wave as he made his way down the corridor to pack his own effects, leaving the two twins alone in front of the Infirmary. Matthew looked to his brother with a cocked eyebrow.

"You know there's no way that Ludwig will approve this. This place is a mess and he's going to want every man he can get here so they can run the numbers for the next attack". Alfred merely shrugged at the warning, his impressive shoulder muscles rolled seamlessly beneath the tanned healed skin. Unaware that without Allistor's healing factor pulsating in his body, he'd have been dead nights ago.

"That's why we don't tell him. Better to ask forgiveness then to ask permission" Alfred smirked as he stepped forward to walk "now, shall we pay the armoury a fleeting fancy, o' brother of mine?". Matthew rolled his lavender eyes at the poor intimation of the odd accent and gave Alfred a hard clap on the back as he brushed by.

"Sure, but first Alfred, lets get you some pants eh? Not even you can hike through blizzards buck butt naked!"

* * *

The adventure continues! So seeing the aftereffects of the battle on Alfred's end and an introduction of another God, Eros; God of Shipping. His OTP will not be broken!... Joking aside, the lore of this world is beginning to be flushed out, the introduction of more Gods and Goddesses and their mythical creations. I am beyond ready to tell you all about Arthur's roots and how the world our heroes live in came to be.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this story and wish to long continue, then please take the time to leave a review telling your thoughts, opinions and questions. They are always appreciated and help with motivation to keep these chapters coming in. With new lore and backstory coming in, I would suggest confused readers to go read the first chapter of Hetalia - Origins for details about the mythology of this world. However if you want a snack bite of the lore, I'll be posting a summary of each God as so to clear so confusion. Once again thank you reading and as always,

Until next time!

* * *

Hetalia - Origins, a short Summary of the First Generation Gods

Void created the first immortal beings Order and Chaos, and together they created:

 **The First Generation of Gods**

 **Gaia** \- Goddess of Earth and prominent Godly figure in the world

First born of Order and Chaos. A maternally kind but powerful figure that cares deeply for her creations.

Fun Fact: Her favourite pastime was to disguise herself as an old woman travels across the countryside telling stories of events that happened in her history and reading the fortunes of great heroes.

Creations

With another:

 **Order** \- Angels

Alone:

-The First Men, the first humans ever created. Later a select few of the First Men would be gifted with the ability to control and wield mana, becoming known as the First Sorcerers. The ability is passed through bloodline, explaining how though all humans have mana, only sorcerers are able to harness it.

* * *

 **Tartarus** \- God of the Underworld and Ruler of Hell

Second born and eldest son of Order and Chaos. Ambitious and cunning, Tartarus craves for the power Gaia wields as head of the Gods and secretly plots to undermine her.

Fun Fact: Tartarus nearly overthrew Gaia with his son Typhoon within the first month of the Earth's creation, the planet's growing structure was unsteady and if not for the intervention of Gaia's Angels, would have been destroyed.

Creations

With another:

 **Gaia** \- Typhoon, Father of the Four Winds and Creator of all volcanic eruptions and dangerous weather

Alone:

-Death

-Famine

-War

-Pestilence

* * *

 **Eros** \- God of Love

Born from the unconditional love Order and Chaos felt for the Void, Eros became personified and the embodiment of all love.

Fun Fact: Eros first created his clay made humans out of jealousy when he saw the many different types of love displayed by Gaia's First Men. He was overjoyed when Gaia allowed him to have his own humans interbreed with hers and has vowed to forever watch over the purest of her bloodline among the humans. He often sees to this by arranging romantic relationships between sorcerers and individuals with power so that Gaia's bloodline is secure and strong.

Creations

With another:

 **Erebus** \- Lust

Alone:

Clay made humans, these humans would interbreed with Gaia's first men and create the diversion between the few magically gifted sorcerers and the rest of humanity.

* * *

 **Nyx** \- Goddess of Night

Opposite to her twin brother's mature personality, Nyx is sprite like and enjoys playing with her companions; the Man in the Moon and the Star Constellations.

Fun fact: She plays a game with the Stars where she must guess how many of them there are. She guessed correctly on the 100th year of the Earth's creation but continues to play along and pretends she still doesn't know

Creations 

With another:

 **Erebus**

\- **Aether** \- God of Light.

\- **Hemera** \- Goddess of Day

Alone:

-Night Wraiths, Intangible figures that patrol the night and travel in the shadows. When bond to a human, a Vampire is created.

* * *

 **Erebus** \- God of Darkness

A brooding God that prefers solace over company save his twin's, Erebus is the master of shadows and the shadow realm.

Fun Fact: His greatest shame is the accidental birth of his second daughter, Lust. The conception resulted from a dishonourable 'one night stand' between himself and Eros, an event he continually denies having participated in though Eros still finds ways to tease him about it.

With Another:

 **Nyx**

\- **Aether** \- God of Light

\- **Hemera** \- Goddess of Day

 **Eros**

\- Lust

And that was been a short guide to the First Generation of gods! This lore will continue to explored throughout the story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.


	23. Chapter 23 - The Heaven of the Past

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 23! A massive thank you to everyone that has been patiently waiting for this chapter. Mocks are over and hopefully regular updates will begin again. Without pause, let's get back into this,

Enjoy!

* * *

90 Miles from The North, An Imperial Warship above the floating Isle: The Elder Grove, Pilot's Quarters

The blizzard's wind slammed without mercy into the side of home bound Imperial Airship, causing the vessel to nauseatingly rock. Snow and hail relentlessly pelted the outer exterior from all directions and the ship's engines were strained to their limits to simply stay in the afloat. They had been travelling near three days and they had made no great distance back to the Capital. Natasha cursed the damned storm as she clung to a control station panel to prevent herself from being thrown. Her arm that the rebel leader Ludwig Beilschmidt had shot a bolt into had now been disinfected and bandaged so that now only the healing throb remained. Around her the room that stank of bile, all her men were green and pale faced as they did their best to hold onto their stomach contents. Natasha moaned as another steep rock tested her motion sickness before she weakly lifted her head to the pilot.

"Gods man, how much longer for this storm? How long until we reach the Palace?" She croaked and tried to rise up to her feet, her legs wobbled from the unbalancing movements of the floor. The pilot, a whim of man, trembled as he worked to keep the ship from spinning, beads of sweat ran down his pink forehead.

"We've been blown wildly off course Ma'am, the storm has shoved us east and now we're over The Elder Grove. I fear we won't be able to cut through this storm to home, it's simply too strong!" The pilot cried over the groan of the metal and wood of the ship's structure. Natasha scowled and was about to stomp over when her sense of balance tipped and nearly sent her to the floor. Instead she contented with slapping the panel with conviction.

"Nonsense, this ship is far from finished. It'll get us through, I refuse to let a gust stop me from delivering the prisoner to His Majesty,". At the back of the room, a bearded middle aged man lifted his head from between his kneels and raised his shaking hand for permission to speak.

"Um, about the prisoner Ma'am. He's been recovering consciousness more and more frequently. The doses we're giving him aren't effectively lasting. We'll run out before the end of the journey" He managed before he gasped and heaved over his disgusted neighbour, the vile liquified slop splashed against the metal grated floor. The odour repulsed Natasha away and nearly caused her own stomach to empty, yet she held herself together and with it, her dignity.

"Increase the dosage then, he is not to wake up. We've seen what that Angel's capable of, he wakes and he will rip this ship apart" She snapped in the man's vague direction, a pale response returned.

"But Ma'am... we're already using the highest safe dose. Any higher and we won't be able to predict when he might wake up again"

Natasha was beginning to lose her patience. "But he'd _be_ under, and that's the priority now. When we've all home out of this damned storm, then I'll worry about the prisoner's state. My brother won't care what condition he's in when I present him". The man looked hopelessly around before he was reached for a docked radio and shakily relayed his commander's orders.

"Johnson? Do you read? Good, yes. Orders from Commander Arlovskaya, she orders the prisoner's dosage volume to be increased to the maximum…Yes, I am aware about the effects. Just do it, he's under no circumstance allowed to wake up".

* * *

105 Miles from the North, An Imperial Airship above the floating Isle: The Elder Grove, The Brig

Down in a damp dark cell that swayed and rolled with the rest of the ship, Arthur Kirkland lay in semiconsciousness on his side; thick manacles encircled his wrists and ankles. His mind was a heavy fogged mess and his senses were far away from him, the drugs they had kept pumping into him had turned his limbs to lead. In the folds of his dazed mind, Arthur weakly tried to grasp and hold onto his flitting thoughts but they slipped from him like smoke wisps. The most movement he could manage was a small flick of the fingers, he had no strength to lift himself in his comatose state. Distantly, Arthur heard two sets of footsteps draw nearer, a loud clank of a lock unlatching and then two voices that his muddled mind vaguely understood.

"Holy hell, I'll never get used to seein' that" The first voice shambled in the dark, Arthur's eyes were too heavy to open and see the man's face.

'What? The Angel? I mean- man it's weird, but its safe. It's chained up and drugged up. It can't touch us" The second voice answered roughly with a colour of doubt despite its self-reassuring words.

"No but, aren't Angels you know- servants of Gaia? Like the Church of Gaia and all that religious stuff?"

"Well yeah, I guess. But, according to the legends, there are no Angels left on Earth when the Heaven and Hell gates were closed. All the good ones were sealed in Heaven and all the bad ones were sealed in Hell, so I mean... what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say, is this right? This could be seen as an act against Gaia, an actual freaking goddess. What happens if she decides to smite us? Oh gods, is the Emperor going to wage a war against heaven?!" The first voice hyperventilated as his overactive imagination ran away from him.

"We are not going to be 'smited' okay? Lets just keep our heads. The Angel is out cold and we're here to keep him that way. Who cares if our ruler is trying to fight a god? It doesn't involve us so we have nothing to worry about. C'mon, get the needle, the Commander ordered for a full dosage to be administered"

Arthur's lids fluttered as a spark of panic jolted through him, the slight movement had an almost immediate effect on the spooked men.

"Oh my gods, did you see that? Did you see that, it's eyes just moved. They _moved,_ its waking up, quickly do it!" The second voice shrieked hysterically and Arthur sensed the two move threateningly towards him. Another stab of panic shot through Arthur's chest.

"No, no… No, no I can't… like this.." Arthur's scattered thoughts cried as his breath hitched and muscles began to quiver violently with effort to move, putting all his minimal energy into resisting the drug that would be forced on him. A whimper left his lips as he felt his limp arm be pulled out and heard the squirt of a needle. He was going to be put under, and when he would wake again, he can well be at the foot of the Emperor himself. The thought gave Arthur a surge of strength to jerk and buck against the pressure that pinned him.

"Hold him!" The first voice yelled and Arthur felt pressure increase and forced his arm still, he winced at the prick of needle point as it slid into his skin.

"No," Arthur breathed as the icy liquid was injected into him, the fog began to creep back in and drag him down again "no…" he whispered with his last aware breath, before he sank into the murky depths of his mindscape, far far away into a vision of the forgotten past.

* * *

100 Years into the most distant past, The Otherworld (also known as Heaven to mortals), The Garden of Gaia

Crowd together on a short lush plane of grass, stood a god and two female Archangels; one of them held a squirming baby in her arms. The towering trees above them bloomed vibrant ride fruit and sprouts of colourful flowers were sprinkled about in delightful clumps; warm rays of the midday Sun basked the company in clear light.

"Oh! why he's beautiful Victoria, I'm positively green!" Exclaimed the olive skinned skin female known as Athena as she cooed and rocked the wriggling newborn in her arms. Her thick dark chocolate hair was held back in a loose ponytail and her olivine eye winked with happiness. The babe in her arms bubbled and clutched and uncluttered his tiny fists in irritation from the separation of his mother.

The God with a handsome smile brighter then any star, stepped forward and softly pressed his index finger into the baby's palm. When little stubby fingers closed around the digit, the God of Love shone a radiant rosy glow.

"I think he likes me, Victoria. He's so enchanting that I would near fall for him myself. That is if I didn't have my favourite already lined up," Eros chuckled when he saw the look of disapproval thrown from the Seraph Archangel "Worry not, I didn't pick just anyone. My vessel was born from the blood of Old King's, he will be worthy of your son. I have forever been grateful to my sister for allowing me to merge my creation with hers. I promised to eternally watch over her humans, and now I will extend the same courtesy to you and this child"

The aforementioned Seraph Archangel and mother of the infant in Athena's arms smiled at Eros and bowed her head in thanks; her golden gossamer waves fell forward past her blushed shoulders to her hips in the motion.

"My eternal thanks, Lord Eros. Your precious gift is immeasurable in value" Victoria thanked as she reached her arms out for her fidgeting son, a peaceful expression settled onto her face as he nestled back against her breast. The babe's previous squirming calmed as it returned to it's mother, content now that it felt secure against the familiar warmth. Victoria hummed a tune as she softly stroked the mop of golden silk. Beside her Athena sighed happily at the endearing sight before a unwanted look of disdain crossed her wise face, her brows drew together in a deep scowl. Victoria was about to ask, when she to felt the arrival of a presence that set her teeth on edge. It touched down a distance behind her. The she-Angels and god turned to face the approaching figure, the Archangel of Holy Water, Haldis.

Ambitious and cunning, Haldis was an Angel of power. When he had first been brought into the world, he had been among Gaia's most loyal. But as had humanity evolved and disrupted and drilled down into the Earth, Haldis began to change. The human's expansion and advancement in knowledge unknowingly caused his lady goddess great pain. Dark thoughts had began to take root in his mind, and then they been encouraged to grow by Gaia's traitorous brother Tartus. The fiendish god promised Haldis help in ridding the humans to 'save' his goddess in return for his undying service, and as to what that included, only Haldis knew.

And he had accepted. The Angel turned spy and had slowly weaved his web of deceit . It was a despairing time to be an Angel, a jarred chasm was forming in the Otherworld. Haldis spread the rumours of the humans destroying their goddess, hurting their holy creator. Some believed and also began to raise their voices against the human's possession of free will, claiming that it should be abolished. Others remained true to their Mother's absolute command: watch over and protect the humans. A secret divide cleaved both Angels and Archangels against each other over the two causes. And yet because there was no active threatening movement against the humans and heaven, all Angels were forced to act civil to one another, despite knowing of the traitorous ones' intent. The situation was an uneasy time bomb, and Haldis was last person Victoria wanted near her newborn son.

The Archangel strode forward with purpose, his midnight ink wings were folded neatly against his exposed muscular back. There was no denying that the Angel was attractive, with long straight light blond hair that fell past his strong shoulders and sly forrest green eyes that were not unlike Victoria's son's. An air of strategic confidence hung about him like that of a master chess player, as though he already knew your next move, and had planned five steps ahead. He continued to stalk over towards Victoria, Athena and Eros, the pair protectively drew closer to the new mother and babe.

An easy smile graced his lips."Fairest Victoria, it's been an age since the last time we met. I've missed our little _chats._ A meeting has been well overdue _,_ " Haldis greeted with the familiarity of an old friend, his gaze darted from angel to angel, lingered on the god of love before resting on the newborn. "And who do we have here? Oh isn't he just precious, I believe a proper introduction is in order. May I?" Haldis said with a gesture with his arms to hold the child, his calculating gaze meeting the babe's. If given complete free choice, Victoria would have struck Haldis down for his crude forwardness. No Angel, save her most trustiest, dared speak to her with such informality. Victoria knew too well that Haldis was the leader of the simmering coupé, knew he was the traitor that had secretly fell from Gaia's service. The bastard served Tartus now. The last thing she wanted was her son in the snake's arms, and yet she risked breaking the fragile quiet that held Gaia's Otherworld if she offended him. It would send ripples, raise doubt against her if the other Angels believed she showed bias. And yet, maternal possessiveness screamed at her not to let go; duty and instincts waged war inside her.

A reassuring touch at her elbow caused her turn and she saw Eros give her a comforting look, "Do not fret Victoria," His steady voice resonated inside her mind "I am watching, no harm will come to the youngling". Only lightly consoled by Eros' words, Victoria tightened her grip on her child for a second before loosening it and with great reluctance, held her baby out to Haldis.

The movement was too quick, too smooth for it not to have been practised. Haldis near swooped down and swept the first angel-human hybrid into a makeshift cradle. He spun with his back to the others and stared fascinatingly into the young one's emerald orbs, appearing to search intently for something hidden there. The babe stared back up at the stranger with wide scared eyes, tumbling particles of gold spun, joined and parted inside. A unseen victorious smile played on Haldis' mouth as he found what he was looking for. He spun back around on his heel to face them again.

"What is his name?" Haldis wondered aloud to the company, lazily bringing up on a finger to curl a strand of hair. Victoria took in a deep breath to steady her discomfort at the action.

"Arthur, I have named him Arthur" Victoria answered slowly as she watched Haldis nod his head to her before returning to his study of Arthur. His eyebrows rose in amusement at something.

"He is exquisite, the first of his kind; half human, half Angel. How unique it must be to possess both a soul and Grace. But I must ask, who is the father?" He inquired as he spied Arthur's thicker then average eyebrows "Clearly not another Angel otherwise his existence wouldn't be possible. I'm sure Lord Eros, you must have had a hand in this remarkable miracle". Victoria felt the atmosphere grow heavier with tension as Haldis continued to press his invading questions, the visit was all too quickly turning into an interrogation. It was now transparent to Victoria, that ulterior motives were at play.

"The father is mortal, Haldis. A great hero descending from the purest bloodline of the First Men, and powerful enough to prove a match against even our strength," Victoria steely spoke, her expression wavering from it's carefully controlled poker face. A cool anger crept into her tight lipped tone. "You've sated your curiosity enough. Give me my son, Haldis. Return him to me. Now".

Haldis stilled for a considerable moment before he looked down and delicately traced the chubby curve of Arthur's round jaw, the recipient squirmed in distress and let out a single high pitched cry that sent a dagger into it's mother's heart.

"No," The Archangel eerily mused in a quiet voice, "I think not".

* * *

The creepiness level, it's over 9000! So, woo, we're finally learning Arthur's origin story and the events of the past that have set up the future. A few hints and winks to the previous chapters and the setting up of some major themes and story elements, will be interested to see if anyone pieces the information together ;). I am honestly so hyped to get this ball rolling again, it's going to be 'fun'.

 ***A WILD PRE-WRITTEN CHAPTER APPEARED!***

 **YES, IT RETURNS! I have already written the next chapter and will be willing to release it early for a minimum of SEVEN reviews! YES, SEVEN REVIEWS ARE THE EARLY ACCESS OF THE NEXT BUTT CLENCHING CHAPTER! LET'S DO IT!**

Below I have included a fact file of all the Angels that will be playing a role in this story series for you all. Hopefully it'll make things clearer in the future as we go on. With that we're about done.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this series and wish to see it continue, please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. They always mean the world and will without a doubt prompt me to continue posting chapter. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!

* * *

 **The Hierarchy Archangels in Gaia's Kingdom (Ranked from Highest to Lowest)**

Victoria \- Britannia

Titles: The Seraph, The One closest to Gaia, Princess of the Otherworld, Defender of Gaia's Throne

Specialised Power: Holy Light and Aether/ Quintessence/ Lightening

Alliance: Gaia

Notable Features: The only Archangel to have six wings opposed to four or two; they are the purest of white. Regarded to be the most beautiful of all Angels, Victoria has had even Gods show romantic interest in her hand, especially from the God of Love. However, her unwavering sense of duty to her Goddess kept all pursuers away until her whole perception changed when she met a particular sorcerer.

Fact: Before meeting her mate and the birth of their child, Victoria was a cold and distant celestial being that took strongly after her grandmother **Order.** In her mind, peace and order came before happiness and comfort. It was her love for her mortal lover Gisil, that caused Victoria to see and fall in love with the bright, colourful world her Lady Goddess had created. So moved by her emotional journey, Eros gave Victoria one time gift of sexual organs, making her the first and only Angel capable of reproduction. With Eros' miracle, Victoria and Gisil spawned Arthur from their impossible love.

* * *

Athena \- Ancient Greece

Titles: Cherubim, Archangel of Wisdom and Harmony, Seer of All

Specialised Power: Air/ Wind/ Storms

Alliance: Gaia

Notable Features: Possesses a third all seeing eye; capable of gathering vast amounts of knowledge. The only Archangel to have four wings, made of feathers that shine with a pearly glow

Fact: Most trusted to the Seraph, will often be confided in and asked for advice due to her great wisdom. In her truest form, she has four heads; one her own, one a lion, one a bull, and one a eagle

* * *

Cassius \- Ancient Rome

Titles: Throne, Defender of Will and Justice, The Sword of Heaven

Specialised Power: Holy Fire

Alliance: Gaia

Notable Features: Is able to use circling wheels of explosive flames to attack. He is the second strongest Archangel, though Haldis is believed to be so equal strength to him. The two have a deep rooted rivalry that stems from the creation of Earth. His powerful wings beam blinding white light.

Fact: While completely serious when it comes to his duties, in his spare time he enjoys the company of beautiful women such as Victoria, Athena and Isis. Only the latter two allow him to get away with his womanising ways, the Seraph has none of it.

* * *

Haldis \- Germania

Titles: Dominion, Angel of Intuition, The Baptiser, The First Who Fell

Specialised Power: Holy Water and Nether/ Darkness/ Shadows

Alliance: Tartus

Notable Features: Has inky black wings that are groomed to perfection. Haldis is an experienced player at manipulated and is unyielding when it comes to achieving his goals.

Fact: His induction into Tartus' service began with good intentions. However the demonic influence of Tartus on his mind caused those intentions to be twisted and forgotten, greedy ambition for power and domination are his drives now.

* * *

Ayiana \- Native America

Titles: Virtue, Angel of Enlightenment, Overseer of Gaia's Garden, Mother Nature,

Specialised Power: Nature/ Plant Life

Alliance: Neutral

Notable Features: Covered in many tribalistic tattoos that symbolise her deep connection to Earth and it's occupants. Ayiana is individual and spiritual, dislikes conflict and will often refuse to take any side. Her wings are a deep clay red.

Fact: While she is scorned upon for abstaining action against the fallen Angels, Ayiana admires Victoria for her amazing power and leadership. It is thought that heroes born under the Sun have an innate connection to her and sometimes she will send said heroes guidance in the form a eagle.

* * *

Arman \- Persia

Titles: Principality, Angel of Time, Father Time

Specialised Power: Time manipulation

Alliance: Tartus

Notable Features: Ruggedly handsome with a 'thief' look about him. Often decorated with beautiful ornate gold jewellery. His wings are a stormy grey variety with traces of silver.

Fact: Regardless of his alliance, Arman honourably set himself a set of commandments in relation to using his powers. He understands the laws of time and carries them out, even if he knows the result will be at his loss. Though sadly, as time passed in the corrupt influence of Tartus, Arman chose to ignore his code more and more.

* * *

Afonso \- Ancient Iberia

Titles: Power, Angel of Power and Defence, Heaven's Shield

Specialised Power: Earth and Metal

Alliance: Gaia

Notable Features: A strong silent figure that is devoted to his role in the Otherworld. Slightly stubborn in his ways and is wary of change. His wings are bulky and a light streaked brown colour

Fact: He gets on well with Ayiana, but finds it hard to speak with Athena. They're opposing powers causes sparks to fly between them. Back from they began extinct, Afonso once challenged the King of the Giants to an arm wrestle, staking one favour that could not be denied as the prize. Once he won, Afonso asked the giants to create a structure of stones that would become the first teleport gate. The giants complied and additionally built singular gates that would serve as a link to the original gateway stones.

* * *

Isis \- Ancient Egypt

Titles: Angel of Blessings, Mistress of the Sands, Guardian of Oasis

Specialised Power: Sand

Alliance: Tartus

Notable Features: A seductive Angel with exotic beauty. She, like Arman, vainly enjoys wearing decorative jewels and gold along with fine silk. Her wings are onyx with golden tips.

Facts: Isis was the first Angel Haldis convinced to fall from Gaia, believing that Tartus would offer her the recognition and power she deserved. Her closest friend was Athena until Victoria warned her about Isis' change in alliance; this has led to a jealousy and hatred for the Seraph to arise in Isis and assisted in her turn.

* * *

Erik \- Ancient Scandinavia

Titles - Angel of Warnings, Breather of Blizzards, Old Man Winter

Specialised Power: Snow/ Ice

Alliance: Tartus

Notable Features: A rather wild Angel capable of falling into a raged frenzy; a trait that is looked down upon by the higher classed Angels. This disdain unfairly inflicted upon him by his supposed 'siblings' has left bitterness inside of him, Haldis taking advantage of this to persuade Erik to fall from Gaia and join ranks with Tartus. His wings are a icy white-blue that are slightly frosted over.

Facts: In the old times he would travel down to Earth and hunt alongside the Iron Bears in their winter territory. He was respected and went on to teach the Iron Bears the common tongue so that they may converse with humans.


	24. Chapter 24 - The Heaven of the Past II

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 24! Thank you so much for patiently waiting and to those special reviewers who continue to amaze me with their dedication and support. You are beautiful people.

Reviewing Responses:

SecretParadox Hatsuki asks: Will the Archangels appear in the present time?

All in good time, my friend, all in good time

Willow Leaves: The whole message

Oh my gosh, this actually made me blush a little. I also enjoy to partake in 'the hug'

Chiisaioni:Is the vessel of Eros who I think it is?

You can say? ;) And thank you for your comment on my world building skills, it's lovely to know people enjoy reading about it as much as I love creating it. And about Haldis being a creeper? Yeah expect more of that, its even better when we learn the reason behind it all.

The Fantastical Writer: The whole message

Thank you for your feedback! It's so heart warming when people point out what I'm doing right.

Alright enough said, lets jump back into the past,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Otherworld, Mid Tier, Gaia's Garden

"No," The Archangel eerily mused in a quiet voice, "I think not". The air that had been hostile, ignited into warlike within a blink. The overhead clouds noticeably darkened and thundered with booming claps. The Cherubim's four pearl wings flung out in a snap and her lips pulled back over her teeth in an animalistic snarl of challenge. Her other three heads growled and shrieked as they shimmered loosely into existence as her rage grew. Eros' form began to steam and the space around him began to dangerously pulse, the definite form he had held became hazy and formless as the human facade began to evolve. Haldis should of been terrified of being the intense focus of the God's anger, the mere idea should of crippled him to his knees and made him beg for forgiveness. But it was Victoria that Haldis only had eyes for.

It was as if Gaia were in heaven once more. There are truly little words to describe the magnitude of the Seraph's terrible, terrible wrath. The whole entirety of the Otherworld shook from her horrible might, leagues below them all Angels screamed in terror as pure radiating fury pierced their minds; they whimpered and prayed to their mother Goddess for mercy of the petrifying occurrence. The Seraph angel's six wings were fanned out and flared with brilliant holy light; her solid white-blue eyes shone with the raw power and light of a supernova.

"Give up the child, Angel" The Seraph's words throbbed with the icy malice that echoed audibly throughout the whole Otherworld, the force behind them rumbled the floating patches of land. The God of love resisted the urge to take a step back from his sister's greatest Angel, simultaneously intimated and proud of her. His gaze flittered over to the Archangel and Eros felt smug to see that under the sun, Haldis had paled in the face of her threat and was no longer smiling. It was so satisfying to see one who thought he was always in control be smacked out of his element.

A conflicted look came over Haldis' face as he debated over something in private, a conclusion reached when he gave a short bark of a laugh and held out the struggling infant to it's mother. "T'was but a jest, my princess. I would never dare lay a finger of harm upon this child" He smoothly recovered with only a slight quiver on his lower lip that revealed his fear. The electrified energy calmed as Victoria revoked her destructive power and she glowed no more. She stepped forward and pulled Arthur to her, never moving her guarded stare from Haldis'. Athena moved to speak, a disdained expression caused her beautiful face to become ugly.

"You address yourself too bold Dominion. The dishonour you have showed towards our Seraph is unforgivable and will not go unpunished. Therewith the next meeting of the Archangels, we will give discourse on your undignified behaviour. Think yourself fortune that you were not annihilated on the spot" Athena clipped at Haldis, her three heads still partly materialised and glaring at him. The Archangel silently hissed in anger at the Cherubim's words but dedicated himself to the pretend role and submissively bowed his head; first to Athena, then to Victoria.

"My most sincerest apologises, my Lady. It was not my place nor intention to dishonour you" Haldis spoke in a hushed voice that almost sounded genuine, he remained bowed until Victoria answered with a stony reply.

"I have no care for pleads of forgiveness. Fly from mine sight, Haldis, and think well to stay out of it. I grow sick of your forked tongue". Haldis stiffened before he gave a small bow of his head and raised his wings for flight, his viridescent eyes stealing a last glance at Arthur before he propelled himself up and vanished into the clouds. There was a echoing silence after the Archangel of holy water's departure, then slowly, life breathed and moved again in the garden with sullen motions.

Athena's brows drew together and her shoulders remained tense.

"A most discomforting encounter, his interest in Arthur was more then sheer curiosity" She voiced with a grieved shake of her head. As Victoria began to walk closer, Eros nodded in agreement with Athena.

"Forsooth, I've never seen one be so disrespectful in my presence" Eros noted with concern, his stare fixed to where Haldis had taken off. Victoria sighed and rocked Arthur gently as she thought.

"Indeed he's grown bolder. Something must of changed, something that casts off his caution to the wind. I fear about the Angels he has secretly convinced to fall from our Lady, I feel that the air is thick, like some storm has began to brew and I cannot see it's approach. It truly sets my teeth on edge, for I now have not only the safety of the kingdom to care for, but now also this child". There was a unsettled pause before Eros spoke up with a tone filled with ill forlorn.

"The future is clouded to me, virtuous Victoria. Hark, I sense a dangerous threat loom closer hither, so close yet invisible to my foresight. I rede you remain on guard and keep Arthur close, my intuition tells me the fragile peace we live in now is not long to shatter". Victoria heeded Eros' warning well, equally grateful yet disturbed about it's contents. With Arthur held close, she gracefully threw out her six colossal purest-white wings (her angelic mark of the title: Seraph), and threw them back wide in preparation for flight.

"Then let us pray to the Fates that peace holds a little longer. I will take Arthur to the temple for rest, I wish you both good fortune in these dark times" Victoria said to her most trusted fellow Angel and God of love before she launched herself into the skies with a powerful downward thrust of her wings.

She soared upwards and spiralled so that her front faced down and the warm air slid under her wings and kept her steadily airborne. Away from Gaia's Garden and past the Temples of Knowledge, the Halls of Archives and the overseeing Watchtower. As she glided, Victoria gave another press to ascend to the higher levels of the Otherworld, where only the privileged and Gods were permitted residence . At the tallest peak, above all else in the Otherworld, was the divine temple of Gaia. Built from the condensed matter of stardust on a small floating patch of lush land, Gaia's temple was the most magnificent establishment in all of the Otherworld. The sanctuary had a divine quality that invited purity and good will, a spiritual place of light, healing and power. Victoria gracefully flew up before she slowed herself to a descent, her feet daintily touched down on the cool polished floor of the temple and her footsteps echoed throughout the empty structure as she walked into the inner section of her Lady's home.

Oval in shape with framing columns and no roof, the ivory temple was open to the subtle elements. As Victoria came to the centre, she admired the titanic craved throne on which her Lady sat when governing the Otherworld. Though it had been decades since she had last sat there, the last time being when she had announced her hibernation. At the foot of the throne, Victoria had set up a small living area for herself and Arthur; beside the fresh offerings left, two large thickly furred skins lay in the fashion of a bed. Due to their tolerance to the trifles that bothered men such as hunger and sleep, Angels had no real need to feast on produce nor to rest. However the reason for the offerings was not for Victoria, but Arthur. Someone had recognised that the half human child would require nourishment and been generous enough to give it, though no indication of whom the provider had been was to be found.

Her naked soles padded over the furs and gently, she removed Arthur from her and carefully lay him down on his back, the infant fidgeting slightly from the sudden loss of warmth until he gave out a weak yawn as tiredness took over. Victoria smiled loving at her child as she shifted and lifted him to ritualistically climb between the furs with him. She often liked to lie next to Arthur and listen to his quiet rhythmic breathing as he dreamed, sometimes choosing to close her own eyes to enter a mediative state where she would pretend to sleep beside him.

Arthur slept soundly on his back with each arm up by his head, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed softly. Victoria looked at the tiny person she had brought inside Gaia's world, a creation that she and Gisil had made. It was a wondrous experience, to watch her child simply _be_ , to know that he was real and had life as such as she did. Quite wondrous. Confident that she would remain aware enough to sense any movement within the temple's grounds, Victoria lowered her lashes over her eyes and began to meditate, breathing deeply in and then deeply out in an imitation of sleep.

Time pasted…

 _THUD!_ Victoria's eyes snapped open the second she felt three foreign presences set foot on her Lady's turf, three being's that smelt of malcontent. Raising herself into a conch protectively over the sleeping babe, Victoria waited for the beings to reveal themselves. Out of the concealing shadows, stalked a sinister trio, their blackened forms morphed and their forms constantly shifting so that they had no true shape. A chattering, clicking noise emitted as they slicked closer; their gleaming crimson eyes fixed on the motionless child.

Victoria threatening unfurled her wings and steeled her glare, "Underworld scum, you dare to trespass into the Goddess Gaia's sanctuary? Are you so empty headed that you do not understand the consequences of your insolence". The shadows chattered avidly as they crept closer with invisible sinister grins.

"Will be no consequence for us, Seraph. Not after this night" Their echoing voices rang in unison with undisguised pleasure, metallic claws tapped and scraped against the smoothed stone. A chill that was not due to the temperature rode the night's breeze and whispered in Victoria's ear a warning, urging her to take action. Far below them in the lower levels, Victoria sensed her kin take to arms against unknown attackers, their cries of war rang in her mind. Gaia's kingdom was under assault.

"Cease your claptrap and untie your riddled tongue, demon, before I decide to rip it out through your teeth" Victoria demanded with the cold venom, as she silently invoked her powers of Quintessence; her skin gave off a glowing quality as her Grace stirred. The demons gave off their horrible clicking laugh again before they spoke.

"Empty threats Seraph, empty threats. You are not as you were once. You used to be feared, we trembled at your name. But no more, your time spent on Earth has made you…soft _,_ a shadow of your former greatness. This will be easy. Our master has given us our purpose, 'Retrieve the hybrid guarded by the Seraph', he says 'bring _Arthur_ to me' he commands, and so we shall"

A pounding shot of icy hate shot through Victoria and she calmly pulled Arthur to her person, her tone was beyond subzero when she spoke, "Would you like to see how _soft_ I have become?". She stretched her shining palm out to the demons, omniscient holy light building at the centre. The demons slowed for a moment before they shook reason from their minds.

"The age of Gaia is over, Tartus will be rule above all!" The demons shrieked as they lunged for the sleeping child cradled in Victoria's arms, sharp claws extended to grab and scratch. It was their fatal mistake. Victoria's Grace unleashed itself from her directed palm in the form of white hot lightening, the pure electrified energy bolted and cracked when it made contact with the demons. Their agonised screams didn't even leave their throats before their bodies vaporised into piles of black ash.

The crackle and snap of the lightening startled Arthur awake and he began to cry as he had when Haldis had held him, his wailing disconcerting against the sudden silence. Rage boiled inside Victoria as she thought of the demons that dared step into her Lady's sacred place and kidnap her son. They spoke of a master, someone who had commanded them specifically after Arthur. Victoria's jaw muscles clenched as she realised the only person bar Athena and Eros that knew her son's name, was Haldis. He had finally decided to play his hand, and it seemed Arthur had become a target.

As Victoria strode past the spattering demon ashes and out the temple with Arthur in arm, she opened her mind and she patiently waited to contacted. It was less then a second before the urgent consciousness of a hysterical Angel rubbed against hers.

"Seraph! Please save us! They are slaughtering our brothers and sisters!," The voice of a young Angel squeaked and Victoria can practically taste the panic and distress in their words "The demons, they are being led through the gate by our Archangels. Oh Seraph, hear us!". Victoria readied her wings for flight at the edge of the temple, prepared to plunge down into the lower disarrayed regions of heaven.

"Quell your speeches of horror my kin, I am here," Victoria's internal voice vibrated with bell-like clarity above the hectic chatter of the Angel's telepathic conversations, all of them fell silent when she spoke with regality befitting her title "Listen here and listen well, our Lady's kingdom is under attack and it falls to our mantle to defend it. Screw your courage to the sticking place. We are Angels of Gaia and we will not allow to be beaten by Underworld forces, nor any who would associate themselves with them". The moment she finished her speech, Victoria felt the familiarly powerful presences of four Archangels reach out to her to communicate; Athena, Caesar, Ayiana and Afonso opened their minds to her.

"Victoria, t'is worse then could of been feared. Haldis has turned traitor, and methinks he hath convinced Arman, Isis and Erik to join his demonic cause" Athena sadly reported with clear grief, she had been close to Isis and had considered her a sister. Her aura seemed distant to Victoria and hinted that she was currently inside a structure, likely the Archives as to protect them.

"How great a force rallies to him? Where is the place they gather most?" Victoria demanded.

"No more than ten thousand, a challenge to be sure now that four of our own are against us" Afonso's conserved deep voice rumbled, snapshot scratches of violent action against the demon's flitted into his mind and so their's as he fought.

"Erik was on watch this night, it must of been he who let the demons in through the gates," Ayiana informally added "The last I saw of them was flying from the gate wince they were guarding it…I did not see Haldis among their numbers"

"He is missing? That snake is likely staying out the scenes to plot his next steps, bah! Seraph, allow me to go search for the fiend so that I may drag him before your feet" Caesar vowed with valour, his title of Throne worthy of a great Angel of his persona.

Victoria mentally shook her head in objection, "No Caesar, you will do no such thing. To chase a phantom in the dark is pointless and will do our side no good. Instead we rally and launch a counter strike. Athena, guard the Archives and their contents, those records must be preserved. Afonso, gather together everyone and guard them well. Ayiana, you fly to the Watchtower, your purpose there is essential to my goal"

"What goal Seraph?" Ayiana asked with confusion colouring her telepathic voice.

"The Otherworld is no longer safe for my young one. Haldis has made his criminal intent clear to me. He desires him for some unknown plot, having already sent demons my way to capture him," Victoria solemnly spoke "He is too vulnerable here therewith I will travel to Earth where he will be hid until we resolve this conflict".

A spike of anger came from Caesar "You would leave our Lady's kingdom undefended to go to the mortal realm? You are our Seraph! Together with Athena, we three alone could destroy this army of darkness instantly"

"Fool! The child is half human, he has a Soul. He will not be able to withstand the all might of our combined Graces" Athena hissed in defence and Victoria felt weak waves of guilt lap against her mind from Caesar.

"My apologises, Seraph. It was not my place to question your actions" He goodheartedly apologised.

Though her fellow Archangel's could not see the action, Victoria physically nodded held her wings out as she stepped off the temple's platform and plunged down whistling to the war struck kingdom below. "Peace Caesar," She thought as she dived, before her in the vast cloudy area of the Otherworld, a chaotic mass of demons circled and swarmed; flashes of light and the resulting demon screams were evidence of the Angels' resistance. "If what Ayiana reports is true, then the gate will be heavily guarded. Thereby I require your aid to clear a path for Arthur and I as we descend to Earth. I cannot risk using my Grace when I hold him". As the Seraph plummeted down and drew into range, snarling demon heads snapped to her direction and jerked and spun to engage her.

Victoria pulled her right wings in close and tumble spiralled out of the way, the column of demons shooting past her before rearing back around for more. Arthur cried against her chest as the chilly wind whipped past them and Victoria clutched him closer as she drove, irritation pricked at her for her current powerlessness with Arthur.

Then out of circling dark mass, a comet of holy fire ruptured through and shot towards Victoria; the sword of heaven had come to her side. Caesar spun as he alined himself parallel to Victoria's vertical form and swiped a arm wide, flaming wheels of fire were cast out, homed in on and destroyed the approaching demons entering from the gate below them.

"I am with you, Seraph" Caesar shouted over the wind as he rightened himself and dived at Victoria's side, his honey-amber eyes narrowed as they sped down to the gate of heaven; entrance to the mortal realm. The bottom of heaven was a sea of mist that churned and toiled, the heavens gate a large sudden gaping hole that led down to the Earth's atmosphere.

"Mine thanks, Throne Caesar. Keep the gate clear for my return, I will not be long on Earth" Victoria called as she fell closer to the gate, hearing the raged screams of demons as Caesar covered her escape. Victoria nosedived straight into and through the gate, the clashes of heaven behind her as the earth's heavy skies surrounded her. Below her she saw the breathtaking circular surface of her Lady's creation, the last rays of dusk peeked from over the vast far away horizon and cast out streaked colours of deep orange, blue and red.

The Archangel carefully invoked a small portion of her Grace and pictured her mate's little cabin hidden in a grove, and when she opened her eyes she saw the same image before her; a quaint home of logs with a candle in the window and smoke rising from the chimney. The night noises of the forrest hushed at the Seraph's arrival and only rich smelling pine trees rustled and swayed. She sensed the powerful dark blue Soul's of four sorcerers inside the house; three little candles fluttered beside the roaring did not approach the cabin, an all matter of sigils and warding that guarded its occupants were engrained into the oaken wood. Instead she waited outside the indivisible circle of protection for her love, the celestial stars above her watched with interest.

Sure enough, the mortal inhabitants stirred when they felt her presence just outside the warding circle, all clambered to their feet in loud procession. The front door was swung open and Victoria saw the Kirklands, the man who had won her heart stood central and in control. Gisil Kirkland was strength defined into flesh. With a tied back wild mane of copper and eyes of smothering Greek-fire, Gisil stood as one of the most powerful sorcerers in existence. He originated from the purest bloodline of the First Sorcerers and had earned the title of the greatest hunter among the sorcerer's community through countless fantastic feats. His scar littered muscular chest was bare and he wore only a simple pair of drawstring pants, thick tattoos of intricate midnight blue celtic knots decorated his limbs and broad back. He sported attractive heavy stubble around his jaw and his comically thick chestnut brows pulled together with concern when he saw Victoria and Arthur. At his hips, a growing child that was the twin of his younger self held his two brothers' chubby adolescent arms with a fierce protective look on his young face.

Gisil muttered something to his eldest with a pat on his head before he left them and strode across the grassy front yard of the cabin to Victoria, the three children stared after him fearfully. His ruggedly handsome eyes softened as he took in his true love's appearance and the babe. He stepped forward to take the Angel into his arms and shower her with kisses, only to be stopped when Victoria placed a firm hand on his chest to stop him.

"I am sorry dearest one. But the news I bring cannot wait," Victoria apologised and fought with herself to remain objective, the mere dight of him after so long made her heart ache for his touch and even as she spoke she left her resolve begin to slide. Gisil enclosed his large hand around the one she had stopped him with, and brought it up to tenderly place a delicate kiss on it.

"Then speak love an' gift ma ears with your sweet news" Gisil spoke in his rumbling cooing voice, rubbing small circles with his thumb into her hand. Victoria pulled her hand away and sadly shook her golden waves in disagreement.

"No Gisil, the news I bring could not be farther. My Lady's kingdom is under attack by the Underworld and Arthur is no longer safe there. I've brought him to you, so that you may hide him from those that would take him" Victoria solemnly explained as she looked down at Arthur who was looking up at the stranger in awe. Gisil followed Victoria's gaze and his scowl deepened as he reflected on the words.

"Are ya certain?," He asked seriously, his eyes flitted back to his other sons "Who would come looking for the lad"

"Demons under Haldis' command. Three dared to attack me in Gaia's temple and more tried to prevent me from passing through the Gate. Haldis' disguise has been cast off and three other Archangels have been foolish enough to believe his lies and join him" Victoria sighed. Gisil reached out and placed two fingers on Arthur's tiny forehead, before he let out a hiss of surprise.

"Grace and a Soul?! He's a walking bacon!" Gisil growled, so much taken off guard that he and Victoria did not notice the hidden figure step out of the darkness until he spoke in his trademark slippery silver tongue.

"That he is," Haldis purred as he became visible from a distance away, standing in the dark shade of a large pine tree on the edge of the clearing. Victoria pushed Arthur into Gisil's arms and spun to face Haldis with a threatening snarl rippling from her bared lips; the cool mask of Seraph giving way to the primal protectiveness of a cornered maternal mother.

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Uh oh spaghetti o. Ha ha, so advancements! Coupes and betrayals! I am really enjoying writing this little diverting origin story, all the while keeping it relevant to the main storyline.

Just something that should be mentioned that doesn't quite come across in the narrative. During this past time, the gates of heaven were open to the Gods and the Angels, who were allowed to occasionally go down to Earth. However they delicately avoided becoming involved in human affairs save the odd occasion, meaning that although it was a time of Angels, humans never become aware that they could walk the earth and that they secretly defended them from demons and other dark creatures. When the gates of both heaven and hell were forcibly sealed, the Earth was rid of Angels and Demons. But that did not stop either side as they discovered ways around communicating with the mortals. The Gods are in no way restricted by these changes.

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this series and wish to see it long continue, the please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,**

 **Until next time folks!**


	25. Chapter 25 - The Heaven of the Past III

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 25! And now, the last part of the flashback. This chapter was interesting to write but by its end we will be moving back into the present. As I always state, your reviews and continued support are part of the driving force of this story. That's why I'd like it if you could please leave a review that the end of the chapter to just let me know if you are still all enjoying it. That's all and now I present you the chapter,

Enjoy!

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The Mortal Realm, The Elder Grove, Outside Gisil Kirkland's cabin

"How?," Victoria growled, raising her wings to shield her mate and child from the Fallen Angel's sight, "the Gate was guarded. Caesar would let none pass through"

Haldis bowed his head as he bit his lip playfully, rolling his head back around with catlike laziness "Ah, which is why I didn't. See there are other ways out of the Otherworld, Victoria, if one only has access to it". The matter he carried himself in as he strolled closer was that of a victor, as though he had already won whatever game he was playing. From under his naked feet, shadows whelmed up and rose about him in tendril-like fashion. Nether, the element of darkness and shadows. An element that wholly opposed Victoria's good Light element of Aether, too strong to be wielded by any Dominion Archangel. The Seraph of Gaia paled when realisation dawned upon her.

"You became what I am to the Lady Gaia, a Seraph. Or rather, a Fallen Seraph of Tartus. With your new power, you warped yourself through the Shadow Realm to here" Victoria grimly put together, invoking her divine Grace and felt the reassuring pulse of it throb throughout her being. Haldis smiled his confirmation at Victoria's theory and shook out his newly formed six enormous midnight-ink wings; the two Seraph stood terrifying as equals.

Haldis tipped his head to the side to spy the company Victoria shielded, the corners of his lips tugged when he saw them and the warding that temporally protected them. "You know once you are dead, ripping down those humans and the pathetic 'protective' letters they've scribbled will be child's play. What do you think you will achieve by resisting? Submit and you will avoid unnecessary more bloodshed. Hand over the child, or I kill your mate and his spawn, _slowly_ " He threatened, spitting the last word with poison. Behind her, Gisil hissed in anger and braced himself for action; whether it was to fight or flee, Victoria did not know.

The wind howled and cut cold like a knife as Victoria shook her head and held her palms out, prepared to give Haldis one final chance for redemption. "Enow, Haldis! Yield, return to us and I swear to you a fair trial. Cease the madness Lord Tartus has you under!" She tried in fairness, despite dishearteningly already knowing the answer.

Haldis gave a bare faced laugh "Return? Yield? Those words are forever foreign to my ears. Nay Victoria, t'night, is your last," His voice tightened as impatience dripped into his tone. At her shoulder, Gisil laid a hand on it to gently move her to the side so that he could face the Fallen Angel.

"Not if I have anything ta say about it, bastard" Gisil rumbled as he moved Arthur so that he cradled him in one arm, his free hand began to spark and crackle with low flames as he ignited his magic. Haldis laughed again, though in arrogant amusement this time.

"Ho? Oh, that's just precious, the human thinks it can do what the entirety of heaven could not," Haldis cooed with a voice of velvet "You needn't worry, I'll take excellent care of Arthur once you are both gone. Why, we look so alike he might as well already be my own". Victoria let out a mangled shriek. She snapped back an arm and shoved Gisil back so roughly that he fell and skidded in the direction of the cabin, her mate huffed as he heavily hit the ground and rolled as to not hurt the babe. Victoria leapt high into the air, wings thrown open and blinding.

"You'll never touch him!" She screamed as she launched herself at the smiling traitor, her Grace outlining her form in a radiant glow. Victoria sprang across the distance between them, raising her charged fist to bring it hammering it down on Haldis' face. Time seemed to slow as Haldis looked up to his attacker, he smirked and then disappeared as he sank into the shadows. Victoria's fist cracked the spot of Earth where he had been. She spun to avoid a chasing tendril of shadow, narrowly missing it. She weaved and dodged with the skill as more chased her, a dancer against the lashing whips of darkness.

A way away, Gisil groaned as he raised himself off the ground, giving a quick glance downward to see if was Arthur unharmed; the distressed babe uncomfortably wriggled against Gisil's bare chest. Behind him, Gisil sensed his eldest rush over to him. Allistor's breathing was heavy as he stopped, his distraught eyes switching from Victoria back to his father. Gisil placed a hand on the boy's shoulders and used it as leverage to haul himself up.

"Listen laddie, take tha babe an' hide inside. My Queen needs her knight" Gisil ruffly rasped, swaying slightly as he found his feet. Allistor scowled, and furiously shook his auburn headed head.

"Yer aff yer heid! Naw, we should'a flee. Leave that bairn, let em' Angels fight it out an' we'll get away scot free!" Allistor begged as he insistently tugged on Gisil's trouser hem with a strong little grip. Gisil firmly gripped his son's shoulder and lent down so that they were eye to eye.

"I understand why ya feel that way lad. But, this babe, he's not someone we can just leave behind. Allistor, we have ta protect him like we protect our own". Allistor's face scrunched up in confusion, his suspicious eyes darted over to the evading Victoria, they widened when he saw that the golden colour of her hair matched that of the baby infant of him. He snapped his head back to the infant and saw the signature Kirkland green colour his irises. A conflict of emotions rippled through young Allistor's face, his eyes widening when he put together two and two.

"He is her's, isn't he? Her's and your's," Allistor said heavily, the knowledge that his father likely left his mother for another sat uneasily on his too young mind. Gisil's face softened as he looked at his son.

"Aye lad…he is. Which means he's yer brother to, an' right now, I need ya ta protect this family. Can you do that son? For me?" Gisil softly pleaded, reaching the tiny Arthur out. Allistor looked down at the baby, before he looked back to his old man and took his brother.

"For the family" Allistor promised. The boy turned and ran back to the crowded doorway, Seamus and Dylan watching fearfully inside. Gisil nodded to his sons before he turned his attention back to his beloved and cracked his huge knuckles. The Seraph of Gaia twirled and spun as the shadows continued to chase her. Beyond her, Gisil saw the bastard Angel watch the scene; a sinister entertained smile on his handsome face. Unseen to Victoria, Haldis raised his palm and with it, behind him, rose a serpentine shadow. The shade familiar hissed, it dark tongue slithered out and tasted the air, its movements smooth and slow as it sized up its target. Haldis pointed at Victoria, and the snake moved.

"Victoria!" Gisil shouted out in warning. Victoria turned as the shade coiled and sprang. With the agility of a snow leopard, Victoria leant back and plucked the snake out of flight. She held it writhing in her gasp before giving it a disgusted look and crushed it back into formless dark matter. A temporary victory in Gaia's name.

"An attack when your enemy's back is turned. You truly do have no honour left," Victoria sneered at Haldis as she shook out her hand that had killed the shade; her usual confident air surrounded her. Haldis' smirk had took a sour downturn, his eyes had lost their playful wink and instead were cold and calculating. His gaze slid over to the children, and that sly smile was back on.

"Shall we see how long humans can survive without oxygen?" He mused as he raised an outstretched to the cabin, directed at a trembling Allistor. Gisil threw himself forward, out over the protective circle and smashed his fist into Haldis' chest. The blow connected solid and the Fallen was blasted backwards. He collided into the hard bark of a pine tree, the tower creaked and groaned as it tilted and fell. Gisil's shoulders heaved as he raised his fists for more, fiery Greek-fire eyes alit and blazing. Victoria gazed at her mate with awe, a rose flush coloured her cheeks at his bravery and strength. It occurred to her, as she stand motionless, how blessed she was to have his undying love. Gisil's eyes flicked over to her, throwing her a flirtatious wink before they darted back to where Haldis had fell.

Gisil smirked, "Let's make short work of this, Love". He bounce on the balls of his feet in a boxer's stance like a champion. Victoria was about to reply with her own witty reply when her smile fell off her face as from the corner of her eye, she saw Haldis rise with his palm out. A bubbling mist of darkness brewed with ill intent as it aimed to fire at the vulnerable mortal. Victoria reacted with focus only on her love.

"Gisil!" Victoria cried with a wild swipe of her hand. Gisil was thrown off his feet away from the scolding energy blast that would of killed him. The sorcerer hit the ground and rolled, before seeing that it was Victoria that had thrown him. A breathless thanks on his lips to call out, when a sudden tendril of shadow spiked directly into the Seraph's abdomen, and sank in deep.

Victoria did not move, looked down and choked; blood mixed with spittle. A earsplitting scream howled from the cabin and Gisil felt as though his blood had been replaced with lead. His mind blank, and then desperate panic replaced shock.

"Victoria!" The crazed man shrieked, the name sounded as it had violently clawed its way out of his raw throat. Over by the fell tree, the fell Angel barked a hagged unstable laugh as he saw the view; having found the Seraph's sentimentality humorous. Gisil to tried to rise, stumbling over his own feet as he staggered to run to his lover's aid. But to the surprise of all, Victoria held a blood-soaked hand to halt him; blood continued to dribble down her paled face. Where she had hunched over the shadow, Victoria slowly, painfully straightened up. She took a deep breath to clear the pain and turmoil splattered across her face. With her face and body's torture under control, her stare rose to meet Haldis' unnerved one.

"How?!," Haldis demanded as he shook free his wings, several more tendrils snapped up in his anger "That should of killed you". Victoria shook her golden locks out with delicate slowness with a smug leer. Her body began to glow and Victoria gripped the spike that had stabbed her. With the same easy might as before, splintered the shadow into nothing.

A divine light began to glow atop her head, golden like the sun. Savouring the sweetness of Haldis' expression of realisation and horror, Victoria reached for the crown of her head. Brilliant particles of light winked into existence, gathered atop and began to spin galaxy-like. The tiny lights picked up speed and grew, until they formed the Seraph's ring of divinity. The holy symbol that her Angel's blade had been released. "How is this possible? Gaia hasn't resurfaced in eons. When could she have possibly given you permission to release your blade!" Haldis hissed and back-peddled, his distilled face coiled with rage and his tentacles of the dark rattled. "How is this possible? Gaia hasn't resurfaced in eons. When could she have possibly given you permission to release your blade?!".

"T'is simple: my Lady is always with me, no matter how far away we may be. Faith, Haldis, is a concept you'll never understand under Tartus' service. As to the how I am able to unsheathe my blade, Lady Gaia granted me permission to choose when to draw my blade whenever I wished on the day of my coronation as Seraph. Along with the authority to authorise the release other's blades" Victoria calmly explained as she grasped the gleaming band with both hands and held it out. With the ease of snapping a twig, Victoria snapped the aureola in half, it's light burst out like shattered fireflies before they converged into a long silhouette. There was a snap and Victoria's blade cracked into existence. The blade was two long golden interlocking talibon blades joined together as to act as the limbs of a recurve bow, no drawstring to be seen for it's arrows were made of light; it was an angelic weapon for melee and ranged attacks. The balance perfect. It bobbed afloat in her open palm for a second before in one movement, she spun it, nocked an arrow, and drew back to aim it at Haldis' heart. Her exalted gaze anchored to Haldis.

"You recognise 'Icarus', don't you Haldis? When you fought alongside me, you saw how it cleaved the Leviathan t'int two at the Battle of the Red Mountain. Do you believe you will be able to survive a blow from this distance?" Victoria's voice lacked any humane emotion, there was only ice as she drew the arrow back further. Haldis viciously pulled his lips back over his teeth to bare them at Victoria. He did indeed recognise the blade, and shrank back a few steps with wings raised defensively.

"This isn't over Victoria," He hissed as he moved away back into the gloom of the trees, "I am patient, I will wait for a time when not even you will be able to reach your son. And when that time comes, you will only be able to weep on the sidelines as I claim him. Arthur, will never be free of me". And with that, Haldis vanished from sight. The forrest rustled restlessly, its queer silence broken by a babe's sudden outburst. Certain Haldis had left, Victoria sheathed her blade and turned to look at her love with solemn eyes; the blood from where she had been stabbed had become crusty and dark. Gisil rose and looked to his children, and then his love.

"Love?" He asked cautiously, his body still tense from the adrenaline in his veins. A pregnant pause took the air as Victoria came down from her cool rage. She turned to look at Gisil.

"Yes. Yes, Gisil. I am here," Victoria hazily answered, blinking her molten amber eyes before she focused them on her mate, "I am calm…Where is my son?". At that Gisil looked over to where the children were gathered, looked pointedly at Allistor and gave a whistle and a motion of his head for him to bring Arthur over. Allistor gulped and, with Arthur awkwardly bundled in his small arms, hurried over. The eldest Kirkland looked up at the beautiful Angel nervously with wide eyes as he reached them, his lower lip trembling slightly. Victoria looked down at the human child with a equanimity, she knelt down to face him at eye level.

"May I have my son, fledgling?" She asked softly, smiling to herself at how alike he looked to Gisil. Allistor made a discomforting sound and rightened his hold on his slipping brother.

"Y'ar not human" Allistor bravely stated, his little heart thumping loudly to Victoria's sensitive ears.

Victoria shook her head gently "No, I'm not". Allistor looked down at the babe he held and his brows drew together.

"Does that need he's not human". With her back to him, Victoria heard Gisil take a sharp inhale of breath. She sighed

"Not completely, little one. He is half human like your father, and half Angel like myself. But there is something I must do to disguise that about him. To protect him, or else many will come calling for him. Do you understand?" Victoria spoke carefully to Allistor, the latter nodded but didn't hold out Arthur to her yet.

"Da said he's ma brother. An' we protect our own. He's relying on me ta protect him" Allistor proudly proclaimed to her, his chest puffed out. Victoria felt the corners of her lips upwards with amusement and delicately placed a hand on Allistor's shoulder.

"Then I to will place my faith in you…" Victoria trailed off as to ask for a name. Allistor promptly answered.

"Allistor. First-born of Gisil Kirkland" He announced with pride. At the cabin, little Seamus and Dylan had began to grow bolder in their movements across the lawn towards their father. They ran to their father and clung to his leg, watching from behind the limb with admiration at their brother's bravery for facing the strange woman. Gisil patted their heads reassuringly as he watched his woman and son converse.

"Well then, watch over him well, Allistor first-born of Gisil Kirkland. May the stars watch over you" Victoria blessed, placing two fingers to her lips and then to Allistor's forehead. The child's brows rose in surprise before he understood and smiled a toothy smile back at his unofficial second mother. He held out Arthur to his mother. Victoria took her child into a cradle and gestured to Gisil to hold him. Her mate came over and compelled, puzzled looks all directed at her as she spun the babe so his back was to her.

"For Arthur to live as a human, his Grace must be suppressed. My seal will keep it controlled, though it is not permanent and will, inevitably, break. His wings on the other hand, have already began to grow. They will have to be broken off, the seal will prevent them from growing again" Victoria instructed as she concentrated on her Grace and instilled the seal onto her son's Grace; internally grimacing as she felt it shriek and attempt to resist her smouldering.

With difficulty and heartache, Victoria forced Arthur's Grace to stem from his Soul and to condense. She buried it deep down inside his aquatic blue-green mindscape, knowing with terrible guilt that she had created a split of personality in her son's mind; divided what she should of not. She knew when the seal would weakened and eventually break, the personified Grace that she had locked away would lack humane emotions and thoughts. Cold and apathetic like how she was before she met Gisil. And yet the years of separation from it's other half would make it unstable at first, desperate to be whole again. It would be Arthur's challenge to overcome alone. It ached at Victoria impose the cruel seal upon her own son, and yet she dutifully knew that it was the only way to cloak him from Hell's sight.

Arthur gave out a piercing cry as his Grace was sealed, two identical marks on his shoulder blades flared an angry red; the place where his wings would grow. The toddlers Seamus and Dylan covered their ears and Allistor screwed up his face unpleasantly until Gisil hushed and placed a soothing hand on top of Arthur's locks, whispering a calming chant until his breath. The agitated Arthur settled and balled his tiny fists against his father's chest. Gisil turned his eyes to Victoria.

"There's still something. It's not as potent, but still there. People will notice something is off Victoria, they'll ask questions"

"Then tell them that he has inherited a rare ability, 'The Sight'. A half truth. He will be able to see things other's can't, but there is no real heritable gift. You will have to feed the lie, continue it even away from praying eyes," Victoria returned as she took back Arthur, "Gisil, when the seal breaks, the characteristics of my people will awaken and his Grace will be uncontrollable. Having lived all his life as human, he will have no idea how to cope with it. When this happens, you must teach him to understand himself"

Gisil made a gasping noise as he struggled to process the dump of information, his eyes distracted and confused "But love, my knowledge is flax in the angelic field. How can I teach him when I barely know myself?". Victoria reached out and reclaimed her son, cradling Arthur against her breast. His pink chubby cheeks wobbled as he moved to get comfortable.

"When you must become a student before a must seek out our prophet in the land of sand. He will counsel you on our ways, so that you one day will be able to pass on the same teachings. This, you must do, else our son is lost" Victoria determined, her voice quivering on her last sentence. The prospect of what she asked of Gisil weighed heavily on him. The man half shook his head.

"Victoria..the lads. They are but wee bonnies. I cannot leave them at such a tender age. Give me an extension, please love. Time enough ta at least ensure that Allistor will be able to take care of them on his own" He pleaded as he took one of her hands into his own. Victoria closed her eyes and took a heavy sigh. When she opened them again, they were full of sorrow.

"Three years. The day Arthur turns three years of age, you must leave without fail," She decided firmly, the flash in her eyes told Gisil that no more time was up for negotiation. Victoria turned and looked up at the darkened night sky, clouded black and boomed with claps of thunder. The battle for Heaven still raged on, and without her strength, it would surely fall ."My time is up dearest one. My Lady's Kingdom will not hold without mine help…This is where I departure, back to the Otherworld"

A line formed between Gisil's brows at her mournful tone, and he moved to cup her cheek; his hard eyes softened as they drank in her woeful beauty. "You make it sound as if this is our last farewell,". Victoria felt tears prick at her moistening tears as she leant into his affectionate touch. "And I don't think I could bear that".

The Seraph angel gave out a huff of a laugh at the irony "Oh, you. Who can venture the greatest man to walk this realm, had the delicate heart of a flower petal". Gisil gave his own sharp laugh and closed the distance between them so that their hot breaths intermingled sweetly.

"Would you have me in any other way, truest Love? Heart of my heart?". Victoria closed her wet eyes and shook her head. She move her forehead forward and Gisil did the same. They amorously leant against each other in their unique embrace, hearts pining for what they could not have.

Victoria breathed in a broken pained voice "We were going to spend eternity together, with our son. We could of watched all the ages of this world pass by, and then watch the birth of the next one…We could of been so happy". Gisil's heart clenched as he thought of their lost future, droplets of water became to mist his own orbs.

"Stay," Gisil hoarsely whispered through a closed throat "Stay, with me. Together, we can hide Arthur. Raise him into a fine man worthy to be called your son".

"Though my heart bleeds for that dream, I solemnly know that at it must and will always remain that. A dream. I am the Seraph of Gaia. I _must_ return, fight in my Lady's throne. It is my nature" Victoria sobbed, her nose brushed against her love's. Gisil made a mewling sound from deep within his throat as if to weep.

"How will I continue to go on, dearest one? This world will be barren without you in't"

"You will have our child, a piece of me here with you, Darling dear. Through him, I will always be beside you," Victoria smiled "You, Gisil Kirkland, gave me a gift no one else ever could. A miracle, you made me a mother…You are the eternal holder of my heart, and while your memory of me will fade by the years, I will _never_ forget you". And with those parting words, Victoria pushed her child into his arms and turned to walk away from the only man she ever loved. She didn't get far. A grip enclosed her forearm and spun her, back around to have her lips clash against her man's. Gisil smothered his rough lips to her soft ones, the edge that held the kiss so sharp that Victoria's breath was stolen from her. Her head spun as her eyes fell closed and her hand snaked into his lion's copper mane to clutch him closer. It was filled with longing and desperate love, bittersweet with the knowledge that it was likely their last.

Around the messy kiss, Gisil growled in a deep, husky voice "As if I could ever forget that perfect woman. I don't care if it's hundred years nor a thousand. I will wait for you, Victoria, Seraph of Gaia. I swear ta you: when tha sun rises from tha west and sets in the east. When the lion lies with tha lamb and Hell itself freezes over cold, _that_ will be the day I will stop awaiting y'ar return"

Victoria smiled with adoring love before she moved both hands to caress Gisil's face and breezed her lips finally onto his "I love you, Gisil Kirkland"

"And I you, more tha' life itself" Gisil dazedly replied. Victoria slid her gaze down to Arthur and leaned down to place a lingering kiss centre of his forehead.

"Farewell, blood of my blood. May the stars watch over you and the wind always be on your back. May the sun eternally shine upon you and most of all, may Gaia be with you" Victoria breathed her prayer against her young one's skin. She pulled away and walked away across the stretch of grassy land. Her titanic whiter-then-white six unfurled with flourish, the air whooshed out around her as she stood ready for flight. But before Victoria brought her wings down to launch herself into the air, she paused and cast the slightest of glances back to where her beloved stood. In his grasp, Arthur's eyes were round and confused as he reached out for his mother; clasping and unclasping his little fists. His father stood bravely silent tears running undisguised down his face.

She turned her head back. "Enough" She whispered to herself, just before she threw herself back into the skies, back and away from the life she could never have. Gisil watched her as she soared away until all he saw was the spot where she had vanished from sight. He was not broken from his trance until a keen tug brought him out of his thoughts. It was Allistor who had tugged him, his wide eyes were looking up questioningly to him and Arthur.

"What do we do now?" Allistor sheepishly asked, shivering slightly from the night's chilling wind. Gisil turned back to the heavens with an empty heart. Where the spot Victoria had flown, a single star had appeared against the otherwise void night. The sight gave him a spark of hope, a promise that one day he and Victoria may meet once again someday. Gisil Kirkland looked down to the babe he held squirming in his arms, the little life he had created, and a sad smile came onto his face.

"The only thing we can, live".

* * *

Later that same night, after the Kirkland family had fallen into a deep sleep, a phenomena that shook the Earth occurred. It started as the battle for heaven moved into the Earthly realm, Demons and Angels relentlessly at each other's throats. Blades against claws, Archangels against their fallen kin. The battle had escalated, volcanos erupted and mountains shook from the brutal force generated from the devastating clashes. Such movements violent enough to reach the innermost core of the Earth, where the Goddess Gaia stirred. She awoke, and was mortified at what her fallen children had attempted. Her horror turned to wrath when she realised her malevolent brother's involvement and malicious intent against her precious Men. Invoking ancient power she had not since the birth of her planet, Gaia pried open both Heaven and Hell gates. With her voice alone, Gaia forced the Fallen Angels and their army of darkness back through the gates of Hell, before she sealed it forever behind them. She then, despite the protestant cries and wails, proceeded to do the same with her own army. The Angels were flung back into the Otherworld against their will, the gate behind them locked shut by their Lady Goddess. Gaia had cast out both Angels and Demons from Earth, shut them out so that they could only watch from the sidelines as humanity continued it's progressive life, blissfully ignorant of the holy civil war that had took place over night. With the threat to her humans gone, Gaia fell back exhausted into her deep sleep. Since then, she has ever remained there, with the gates to Heaven and Hell still shut tight.

* * *

And there we have! History explained! New questions raised and the story continues! A chuck of lore about Angels was dropped, my favourite involving their blades. A little detail I included was to name Victoria's blade Icarus (as it is identical to the famous weapon in the Kid Icarus series) but also because I feel that all great weapons are named. So in the future, we may be seeing more angelic blades and their wielders *wink wink*

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you are liking this series and wish to see it long continue, please be sure to leave a review to tell me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,**

 **Until next time folks**!


	26. Chapter 26 - Quite the plan

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 26! Happy Easter! Thank you everyone for being patient, it's greatly appreciated when schoolwork is weighs you down. Also a thank you to all who reviewed, you continue to amaze me with your support.

Question Time!

SecretParadox Hatsuki asks: Would it be forbidden for a high-ranked Angel to be mated with a human?

Well, here is the ironic part. Angels aren't capable of natural reproduction, they can't mate with other beings, nor even each other as they have no sexual organs. Because of this, the thought of having a child was unthought of as it wasn't thought to be possible. The reason Victoria was able to give birth to Arthur was because of Eros. Being the god of Love, he used his powers and gave Victoria the opportunity to make love with Gisil, resulting in Arthur. Secretly Eros desired the creation of a hybrid, and so was thrilled when he saw the impossible love with Angel and Human. Of course, when heaven discovered what had happened, there was a commotion but no action was taken against Victoria as as a Seraph, she is essentially their princess. Gaia was overjoyed that such a miracle happened, happy for Victoria that she had joined with her favoured creation, and so most Angels followed their Lady's feelings. Gaia's and Eros' bond strengthened following the event while other Gods looked on with jealousy.

Willow Leaves asks: Does Francis come back in soon?

Ooh yeah, he'll be back. We'll see our beloved french frog soon, he and Arthur are to play their roles.

Thank you for submitting your questions, they're such fun to answer and now, without further ado, on to the chapter!

Enjoy!

* * *

100 years forward into the most present, An Imperial Warship above the floating Isle: The Elder Grove, The Prison Brig

In the confined dark cell, two soldiers breathed out in relief when the Angel they had pinned slumped into a deep, deep sleep. The winged being's previously struggling weak body went limp and it's eyes rolled back into it's head as the overdosage of the sedative drug took effect. The only movement were the ragged pants of the terrified men, the creaking the steeply rocking ship. Slow with caution, the larger soldier who had held the Angel to the boarded floor, raised himself up and stood above the still creature. He shakily looked over to his comrade who had just jerked the needle out of the Angel's cuffed arm.

"Bloody hell that was close," His comrade shook as he continued to look down at the subdued being fearfully "Did you hear it? It spoke, just as I injected it". The soldier that stood over Arthur and took a moment before he squatted down, an overconfident smirk slapped across his face now that the danger had subsided.

"Yeah, actually sounded human," He remarked and let out a low impressed whistle, "Oh boy, Georgie, you should come over and have a closer look at it. It looks like so unreal, like a work of art or somethin'". The squatting soldier went lower to peer closer at Arthur's sleeping face, his hand twitched and he slowly reached out.

"What are you doing?!" Georgie squealed a high pitched squeak at the intrusive motion, the needle dropped out of his hand as both hands flew to clutched his hair line in horror.

"Relax, he's not going to wake up. Just…wow, isn't it amazing? An actual Angel, right under me," The soldier wondered as his fingers enclosed around Arthur's lax chin, his thumb stretched to experimentally brush across Arthur's warm lower lip as he tilted the head from side to side. The other soldier made a strangled noise inside his throat and waved his arms wildly in panic.

"Don't fucking touch him!" Georgie squawked shrilly before the air suddenly shifted and grew cold as if a ghost had entered the cell. From the darkest corner, completely shielded from the yellow corridor lights, a ruff, deep voice rumbled like a jaguar.

"Took tha words right outta ma mouth, _boy_ " The shadowy silhouette growled and both soldiers screamed in terror and back-pedalled as far away as they could; the distinct smell of urine revealing they had promptly soiled themselves. The figure gave out a dark chuckle as it moved, a huge titan of a figure that the shadows seemed to cling to. The soldiers clutched at each other with matching twin tear trails down their ugly faces.

"G-gghost! It's a ghost!" Georgie wailed as he uncontrollably trembled, "O-hh oh, please Spector sir, have mercy!". Ignoring them, the figure only stomped closer until it stood over the chained unconscious Arthur. With a snap of his finger, the thick manacles snapped free and the figure crouched to lift the angelic being bridal style.

"What substance did ya inject him with?" The figure thunderously interrogated, "Speak swiftly an' perhaps I won't tear out ya tonsils an' hang them from y'ar ears". The soldiers' knees knocked together as they quaked in fear.

"Essence of Datura! Oh please, please don't hurt us. We promise to live a good life from now on!" They pleaded as they fell to their knees, repeatably bowing with such force that their heads smacked against the floor each time. The figure unseeingly smirked and turned towards the wall of the cell that separated them from the outside world. With two wide stride, he crossed with the Angel in his arms and slung all it's weight over his shoulder as to have an arm free. With careful aim, the figure placed his knuckles against the smoothed wood. The familiar adrenaline shot of magic coursed with him and with a powerful telepathic blast directed through his fist, the wall of the cell splintered with the blasted pieces being whipped away by the outside blizzard. The whole structure of the ship shook from the shock wave and snow and ice swarmed to fill the sudden gaping gap. The Imperial men screamed again and clung to the ground as the wind tore in and whipped chaos into the interior of the ship. Above them, hectic footsteps thumped and ran about to investigate the cause of the explosion.

The figure stood with Arthur and looked far down at the floating Isle of the Elder Grove and it's snow covered pines. The air sprites that had accompanied him, were invisible to human eyes, cried for him to jump, their wispy arms held open to catch them. The figure tightened his hold on the Angel.

"Don't worry lad, I've got ya" He whispered before he stepped out the Imperial Warship. Plunging into a free fall towards the snowy ground.

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, Outside the City Gates

Else where, standing in ankle deep in snow and clothed thickly in winter furs, twins Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams stood huddled together. Anchored on their backs were enormous rucksacks of equipment and provisions that threatened to send them on their backs, each with a tightly wrapped bed roll on top. The pair stood with furiously chattering teeth and Matthew's eyes were trained on the misted snowy city while Alfred watched the barren, flat wintry plain of the wilderness.

Alfred let out a huff of regret from behind his scarfed mouth "Jeez I wish I had gone for that extra puffy vest, these several layers are barely cutting it" He complained to Matthew as his goggled eyes peered through the amber lens at the landscape. He kept getting glimpses of something moving and he was secretly hoping he'd get to see some early northern wildlife.

"I did try to warn you," Matthew sighed in response, almost too quiet to be heard over the wind's howl "Let's hope Lukas would get here soon eh?". Alfred gave a nod and turned back to watch the plains, giving his brother an attentive slap when he saw something defined moved towards them. Matthew's brows rose in alarm as the thing got closer, his hand snaked behind and gripped the pistol that was in it's holster at his lower back. The brother's froze when the thing coming towards them was revealed, impossibly, a large white horse with a straight single horn on it's head. It was completely white with a long fair mane that had clumps of snowflakes laced in it, and on it's back, a cloaked body was slumped. Alfred felt his blood run colder then it was when he recognised the colour of the cloak, it was the same as Arthur's which meant…

In anyway other time, Alfred would of been all over the unicorn. But the need to see if the figure was who Alfred presumed he was was stronger. He immediately ran towards the horned horse, ignoring it reaving and huffs of annoyance as he pulled back the thick cloth of see Allistor Kirkland near dead beneath. Alfred cursed under his breath and reached to desperately check for a pulse. He found it, weak and slow, but still there. Alfred spun and called back over to his brother,"It's Allistor!". Matthew's hidden face instantly became alarmed and he sprinted over in the snow, dismayed when he saw the condition the man was in.

"We need to get him back before he freezes to death" Matthew shouted over the gale as he pulled a metal flask from his belt and tipped it's alcoholic contents into the man's gaping chipped lipped mouth, tilting his head up so that the fiery liquid would spill down his throat. Alfred nodded and together, the two of them hauled the slack Allistor off the horses' back and with one arm over each shoulder, half dragged half carried him back into the northern city.

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, 'The Crossing Ales' Tavern

"Warm water! We need some hot food and water!" Alfred yelled as he kicked open the wooden door of the closest tavern. With the help of Matthew, they hulled Allistor Kirkland in from the cold, the man's chestnut shaggy head hung forward limp. The bustling tavern was lit in warm candlelight and was stifling with a open fire hearth; above the roaring flames, a large iron cauldron of stew bubbled. Customers frantically cleared out of the brother's way as they staggered over to the hearth and propped up Allistor in front of it. As Matthew became to quickly strip Allistor of his freezing wet clothes, Alfred stood up to address.

"You!," He shouted and pointed to the barmaid, a well-do plump middle aged woman in her forties "Get me some of your hottest stew. I don't care what's in it, just make sure it's hot". The woman, despite her bewildered expression, nodded her head and dashed over to the cauldron with bowl and ladle in hand. Alfred then spun and pointed at a crowd of skinny boys.

"Oi!," He called out to them, their capped little heads snapped up in response, "A silver piece for the first one to bring Lukas Bolshevik here". The boy's greedy eyes flashed and the door hadn't even shut before they were speeding the roads towards the Palace. All around, the tavern's customers were muttering and whispering to themselves as they finally recognised who Alfred and Matthew had brought in.

"By joe! That's that sorcerer who killed the Yeti! The red haired one, Kirkland!" They cried as Alfred crouched and accepted the steaming bowl of stew off the barmaid. Allistor, now bare save for his undergarments, was looking more alive. His skin that had been blue, was not as pale and his limbs jumped and reacted when Matthew tested them. Those Greek-fire eyes was embers of what they once were as they opened and dully saw Alfred raise a wooden spoon to feed him. Allistor distantly eyed the spoon but made no move to open his mouth.

"Don't make me force this" Alfred warned with a dangerous glint in his eye, and the Scot's mouth unclasped. Alfred carefully tipped the meat stew in and made sure to watch that Allistor swallowed before he repeated the process. As the barmaid laid out Allistor's clothes to dry next to the smouldering fire, Matthew took out the medical pack from his rucksack and began to clean the minor scrapes and cuts littered across Allistor's body. They worked like paid nurses: cleaning, wrapping and feeding the wounded sorcerer until there was nothing left to be done but rub the circulation back into his joints and wait for Lukas to arrive.

In a croaky voice, Allistor slurred in an drunken-like state, "Fucking, uh- son of a. Fuck. Gimmie five an' I'll give ya ten, ya…pickled dastard".

"He's delusional, eh" Matthew diagnosed as he reached backwards to check the dryness of the clothes "Hopefully Lukas will know what to do". Allistor groaned and licked his lips thirstily, drinking thirstily when Alfred raised his water skin and poured it's contents into his mouth; his eyes glossy and unfocused.

"Jeez dude, what hell were you thinking?" Alfred quietly muttered as he returned the container to his belt and looked pitifully at the sorcerer he had come to see as an ally.

The tavern door was thrown open again and inside rushed Lukas led by a scrawny small boy with angular elbows and knobbly knees. Lukas' face seemed to darken and he promptly marched over to Allistor as Alfred fished out a silver piece from his pocket and threw it to the eager lad. Lukas knelt beside Allistor and searchingly reached out to feel where his face was. Then, without warning, he drew his fist back and punched Allistor square on the nose.

Allistor howled and clutched his throbbing hooter. Lukas stood in shadow to the fire before Allistor and tilted his head as if he were looking down at Allistor, disapproval and anger radiated off him.

" _That's,_ for abandoning us you coward. Do you think if you just run away from the problem it'll solve itself?!," Lukas scorned, his hands planted firmly on his hips "I've a good mind to box your ears like a child". Allistor groaned and spat out the blood that had collected in his mouth from his bleeding nose onto the floor; the barmaids whimper of protest was faintly heard over the row.

"Bassa! You'll have no mercy from me!," Allistor outrageously roared as he attempted to lung off his feet and attack, only to be stopped when Alfred and Matthew moved and forced him to remain sitting. The frenzied Allistor violently shook to dislodge them. "Awa' n bile y'ar head! I'll string tha lot of you pups by ya wee ankles!". Lukas shook his head at the unbecoming display.

"He's in no condition to have a reasonable conversation. We should take him back to the Palace, and wait for his rationality to return". Alfred nodded and helped Matthew quickly pull Allistor's warmed clothes back on their owner before, with difficulty, they lifted the man and made for the door. Lukas dung into his pocket to search for some coins for the barmaid's trouble, the woman quickly palmed them and her gaze, like all others, in the tavern, followed the four out of the door. The fire popped as another log was split, the action releasing a miniature firework of embers as the white snowflakes continued to flurry outside the window pane.

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace, The West Wing's Fitness Ward

The Winter's Palaces' Fitness Ward was one of great grandeur. It was a wide spacious area with a high ceiling and a polished brick red floor and creamy painted walls. There were huge arched windows that gave a view to the Palace gardens, though no green was to be seen under the blankets of snow. Opposite the view, a variety of bladed weapons both antique and practical hung on display with an silent attendant that would fetch one should they be asked. An impressive set of weights were stationed near the eastern wall, but it was at the centre of the room where a large square fall mat lay that was the focus of the room; a circular crystal chandelier swung glittery above.

The room was private, reserved for only the higher ups in the Palace and so naturally, it was very quiet save now with the repetitive sound of a fist against a sandbag. Centre of blue mat, a brown leather punching bag swung wildly as a beautiful woman dressed for sport boxed it. With her long chocolate hair twisted into a bun and olivine eyes narrowed, Elizabeth Héderváry gave the bag what for. Her naked feet switched and bounced on their balls and her frame shifted from side to side as she imagined herself in combat once again; fists held high to guard her face.

She had been in there the whole morning, exercising her body to be rid of the slight plumpness that her new life had given her. And while it was true that she did not deny that living with Roderick in the Winter Palace was like a fairytale, lately she had noticed that her radio contacts to rebel partner Gilbert were getting fewer by the week. The type of information she fed back was usually taken directly from Roderick's office: shipment lists, typed up reports of activity in areal checkpoints, transcripts from suspicious tapped radio transmissions. The Emperor were not only cracking down on their security, they were intensifying their propaganda. Sometimes when she walked about, Elizabeth would catch a glimpse of men carrying large stacks of paper (presumably posters), though she could never get close enough to be sure. For all her successful spying, Elizabeth felt that she was wasting more and more time with the air headed court ladies, that she was beginning to lose sight of her rebel cause. It troubled her deeply, leading her to dismiss the usual female company in favour of solitude in the fitness ward. She had needed to straighten her thoughts into order.

In truth, Elizabeth knew what was happening to her. She was sinking too deep into her cover as Roderick's lady and lover, to the point where she knew that the play-feelings that had came with the role had grown to be real. They complicated matters, almost certain to make her hesitant in a time of future action. And that could not be allowed, especially with her life in the balance. She hated it, but felt the only way to crawl out of this pit she was sinking into would be to leave. Leave while she still could. But ah, if only the thought didn't stab a dagger into her heart.

With a heavy huff, Elizabeth continued to beat her cyclic problems into the bag, her knuckles near raw and red when behind her, the creak of the door caused her to stop and turn.

"Elizabeth?," Commander Roderick Edelstein asked as he swung the door open, behind him a clustered group of men fearfully peered in; having been too scared of Elizabeth's aggressive exercise to intervene and inform that her time slot had ended. The Commander was dressed in his prim navy blue noble coat and white riding trousers, his black boots gleamed as they moved into the room. Forgetting her mannerisms, Elizabeth ran a forearm across her glistening forehead as she forced a smile for him with her dark thoughts still haunting her. "Here you are! I've been looking all over for you" Roderick continued as he reached out to embrace her, appearing to not mind her perspiration or tousled appearance. Elizabeth's eyebrows raised a faction before she laughed as he without warning scooped her up and swept her around in a twirl. They playfully spun until Elizabeth slowed their dance by moulding her lips against his, both of them with giggles bubbling around the endearing kiss. This wasn't pretend.

She happily sighed as she broke off the kiss and felt a pang when she saw the look of adoration on her lover's face as he looked at her. "What's got you in such a good mood?" She teased with a tap on Roderick's nose, the man briefly scrunching it up before he answered.

"I've managed to organise some time off for the two of us. The day Natasha returns from her mission, I'm taking you for a holiday" Roderick grinned with twinkle in his indigo eyes, excitement akin to that of a child's. Inwardly, Elizabeth felt her heart deflate. She did truly want to go, but if she did, the rebel's feed of information would cease. She could not leave the Palace so easily, especially when the activity was climbing. Elizabeth thought back to her diploma of her head against her heart. She had decided if she was to leave, she'd steal as much information as she could before she bolted. She just needed an opportunistic push to work up the courage and take the leap of faith.

"What day is she due?" Elizabeth asked airily as she motioned a servant to come over with a white towel, took it, and began to pat herself down. A line furrowed on Roderick's brow when she didn't mirror his own excitement but he continued to smile nevertheless.

"Well, truthfully, it was supposed to of been yesterday. However I've heard back that heavy storms have been plaguing the Northern skies, so they've likely got delayed," Roderick explained before he leaned closer and spoke in his most private voice; reserved for the only their most intimate of moments, "Elizabeth, would you like to hear something amazing?". Curiosity whelmed inside Elizabeth and she moved closer with focused eyes.

Roderick drew nearer, close enough to speak in a breath of a whisper but far enough so that he would be able to see her expression. "They found an Angel in the North. And Natasha is bringing it back here". Elizabeth's eyes shot open wide in shock and she gave a bewildered look at Roderick to see if she was being played with.

"You jest, surely!," Elizabeth cried as she gave him a sharp backhanded slap on his chest before she continued in a lower tone,"A real Angel of Gaia? That's impossible, the imagination of the mind".

"I assure you Elizabeth, Natasha spared me no detail. She's over the moon with her achievement. She reported that it downed three of the Emperor's Deadmen before they were able to suppress it and board it on the ship. But you haven't even heard the most surprising part. Do you remember the little tea room around the edge of the distinct plaza? The one between the florists and the bakers?".

Elizabeth nodded, "The one that has been closed for a while now?"

"The exact same. Well, the identity of the Angel was none other then the co-owner of the place, Arthur Kirkland. Yes, I've told you about that name before. The Kirklands were the family of sorcerers I sought after many years ago. Imagine my surprise when I learnt that not only were there still two of them still walking about, but also that one of them was a secretly a being of divinity" Roderick shook his head at truth, sounding surreal to his own ears. Elizabeth's voice grew dry as she cast her mind back to recall the times when she had entered the quaint tea room. It was implausible to think that blonde english gentleman who had served her lemon tea could possibly be from the heavens.

"Roderick…this is, unbelievable. The capture of an Angel. Gods, isn't that an act against Gaia? Can you imagine the uproar it would cause if the Church of Gaia heard about it? They would wage war, their supporter's are countless. All of the Isles would turn in on themselves" Elizabeth worried, biting the bottom of her lip nervously and her eyes darted to the view of the city as if it would the worshipers would storm the palace in that moment. Roderick slowly entwined his fingers with hers, a deeply thoughtful expression on his face before he brought their clasped fingers to his mouth to slowly kiss.

"You're right my Lady. With an Angel as leverage, His Majesty would be able to control the Church, and by extension, religion itself. It would quite the plan," Roderick mused in a distracted manner, dropping their hands and looking down with a contemplative look "Quite the plan…". Elizabeth shivered for reasons that were not due to the temperature, so lost in her own whirring thoughts that she hadn't noticed Roderick's absence until he was already out of the door. Leaving her to watch his disappearing form, and with not so much a goodbye, he vanished from sight and left her alone in the vast room again. Shock over her lover's suspicious behaviour temporally seized her mind before Elizabeth's military hardened instinct kicked in and urged her to immediately radio Gilbert.

The rebels had to know.

* * *

Woo hoo, and the plot begins to thicken. Just wait until Natasha returns to the Capital empty handed...

Explanations:

Essence of Datura - A deceivingly beautiful yellow flower that was used as a powerful sedative in medieval times, contains a calming toxin that causes intense hallucinations and renders one incapacitated.

The Unicorn - Allistor's familiar, as he drew closer to death while out in the wilderness, his unicorn summoned itself and proceeded to carry Allistor back to civilisation. Why Allistor trampled out into the wilderness will be soon revealed.

Bassa - Scottish slang for bastard

The Church of Gaia - So far only hints and references have been made towards this organisation. No details have been explicitly dropped other then that they have a wide following. Their leader is yet to be revealed.

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this series and wish to see it continue, then please consider leaving a review to tell me of your thoughts, opinions and questions. They are forever welcome and encourage me to write these out faster for you all. Once again, thank you reading and as always,**

 **Until next time folks!**


	27. Chapter 27 - Down in a Dungeon

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 27! So inspiration hit and I managed to pump this out the same day as I posted the last chapter, but decided to keep hold of it. It's a pretty big reveal chapter, so I'm quite excited to see everyone's response to it and see who is able to piece the information together. I'm also delighted to inform you that I'm on a two week break from school, so chapter updates may come out quicker :)

Question Time!

Night of the Raining Flames asks: Do sorcerers just have a really long life span?

To answer the question, sorcerers live very different lives to regular humans and with them, ageing gets a little iffy. Part of their reason for being naturally solitary is that they have a vastly longer life span that regular humans. Unless they marry another supernatural creature that also has an extended life span, sorcerers will always outlive their partners. This has evolved to sorcerers choosing to stick to their own company for fear of becoming too attached in a relationship that is doomed to end in heartbreak.

Ageing for sorcerers can be very confusing. There's no exact scale by which their age can measured as a sorcerer's ageing process can slow, even stop during the years. Presently in our story, in human years Arthur is 23 and Allistor is 27; when in actuality, they are 100 and 150 years old respectively. It has been heavily speculated that sorcerers cannot die from old age, with nearly all accounted reasons of death being due to diseases, combative wounds and other accidents such as experimental magic failures.

Chiisaioni asks: Are Angels regarded to be creatures of myth? Thence why the Imperial soldiers were surprised when he spoke.

You are exactly correct. Angels were thought to be fictional and are regarded similarly as Gaia is as a Goddess; real only in religious teachings. So to hear that an Angel, which was not meant to exist in the first place, speak the human's common tongue was incredibly shocking for the soldiers.

With our question section out the way, I present to you the next chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, The Dungeons

It had taken Allistor Kirkland a whole day to regain his sensibility, the sorcerer had been thoroughly embarrassed when he had been informed about his shameful actions. Only after promising Lukas he would never try to pull a similar stunt again, did the blind sorcerer agree that it was time they finally spoke with Vladimir. Later on that same evening, Allistor, Lukas, Alfred and Matthew had walked down into the Palace's underground dank, dripping dungeons; their footsteps echoing against the cold slated limestone floor. Vladimir's cell was at the end of the lowest corridor and it's steel vault door was guarded by three bulky guards who nodded respectfully when Lukas and company approached. The railed prison door had groaned as it slid open and allowed the men to step into the cell.

It was rectangular in shape, with a ceiling-to-floor set of iron bars that separated the cell into two to create a 'visitors' area. The air smelt faintly of mould and nipped with freezing bites. Inside the actual containment cell, a large purple magic circle had been painted central to the room while other confiding sigils and symbols patterned the walls; all restrictive warding glowed faintly as they fed off the prisoner's own mana. Vladimir Popescu kneeled with his head bowed at the centre of the magic circle, dense manacles enclosed his bony limbs and neck; his nose was still broken and bleeding from when Allistor had smacked his elbow into it. He minimally raised his head as the four stepped inside, and a humourless smile flitted on his bleeding chapped lips.

"Have you come to kill me, Allistor? At this point, I'd welcome it" Vlad whispered in a brittle voice, his weary eyes watched searchingly to see if Allistor would draw a weapon. Allistor lightly pushed Alfred and Lukas aside so that he could stand closest to Vlad with concentrated look on his stern face. Tension lay thick upon the air as the two men met one another's stares.

"I'm not here ta kill ya, Popescu," Allistor replied in a tightlipped voice, "though I won't deny how ma fingers itch to"

Lukas made a disapproving sound at the comment and Vladimir gave a dry chuckle, "So I see its torture first then? Brilliant, my vocal cords miss being torn" He sarcastically snarked, though a detectable layer of fear coloured his words. Sympathy pricked at Alfred and, despite agreeing to let Allistor and Lukas do the talking, he stepped forward to speak to the prisoner of war.

"We wouldn't do that dude, on my word as a hero" Alfred promised with his left hand held up and his right placed on his heart, the universal display of honest intents. Vladimir did not seemed moved and switched his reserved stare back to Allistor.

"If you aren't here to hurt me, then what are you here for?" He suspiciously asked with a sniff, his chains rattled at the jerking movement. Lukas shifted his position so that he stood side by side with Allistor.

"Vladimir, I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Lukas Bolshevik. We studied astrology under Master Mettimoto in The Restless City when we were nine years old" Lukas tried, his blindness prevented him from seeing the flicker of recognition that darted across Vlad's dirty face.

"Lukas? Gods, what happened to you? Your eyes…" Vlad paled as he peered closely at the band of black fabric that covered Lukas' missing eyes, his throat clenched around the lump that had thickly formed there.

"Yes, they were taken. It happened a few days after the purge began. My brother and I were fleeing for refuge in the North when we were ambushed. We would be taken back to the Capital if it had not been for the invaluable help of ex-Imperial Tino Väinämöinenave. He helped us escape and together, the three of us arrived north and His Majesty has shielded us ever since" Lukas explained, his voice low and sorrowful at the haunting memories of the past. Behind him, the twins felt a wave of pity for the sorcerers that had suffered at the targeted hands of the Emperor.

Vlad shuddered from Lukas' chilling story and at the dropping temperature of the cell. It occurred to Alfred that the man looked malnourished beneath his thin clothes that hung off him like a rag.

"I am sorry, Lukas. I wish that had not happened, no one deserves what the Emperor did to us. Allistor…," Vlad croaked, his voice began to crumble as moist droplets gathered in the corners of his eyes, "I'm sorry Allistor. I am _so sorry,_ for the part I played in your brother's death and everything after. You have to know, that night, I truly didn't know it was you. You, Seamus, Dylan and Arthur, you were the ones everyone wanted to survive, were the ones who had the best chances of surviving. We all thought…if at least you survived, we could be avenged. Your family were the best hunters, your father was a legend among us…So when I saw that I had led the Empire right to you, I felt that I personally had caused our extinction".

Tears had began to freely pour down Vladimir's bruised and cut face. The empty spaces of the cell became filled by his tragic confession. Allistor stayed motionless, a statue of silence as he stared at the man who had unknowingly caused his family to be cleaved apart. It was a long time before he spoke.

"After Seamus' and Dylan's deaths an' Arthur's disappearance, I felt hollow like a puppet. When I was brought here, ma grief turned ta anger, an' that turned to hate. I directed that hate at you, so sure that you had betrayed us ta save yar own skin. I see now, that ma hate was misplaced," Allistor resounded, his tone ringing with clear acceptance and his bottomless Greek-fire green eyes poured into Vlad's; a surge of strength seemed to pass between the two. "I forgive you, Vladimir Popescu. So please, help me rescue Arthur, he's tha only family I hav' left"

To the surprise of everyone in that chamber, Vlad gasped and looked at Allistor with wide eyes; a shadow of hope shimmered inside them "I promise, but I must tell you now. You're wrong"

Allistor's eyes immediately narrowed,"What did y'ar say?" he growled in a dangerous pitch that raised all hairs on the back of everyone's necks.

"He, Arthur, is not the only family you have left. You see, when sorcerers were captured and brought before the Emperor, he decided if they were to be of any use to him. The ones who are obedient and gifted are spared while the other were…put to death. I- I was there when Seamus' body and Dylan were presented,". And Vladimir proceeded to tell his account with eyes that stared though Allistor and back into the pastime. All listeners were deadly still as they listened.

* * *

Six Years in the Past, The Winter Palace, The Emperor's Private Audience Chamber

Despair. Despair was all Vladimir was as he was forced to kneel to the right of Commander Edelstein, his entire upper body tightly chained and a stuffed ball of cloth gagged his mouth. He and the Commander were placed on the left wall of the french rococo audience hall, on the opposite wall to him was the Emperor's sister and a cluster of her preferred guards. The Emperor himself sat on a plush throne at the end of hall, a massive strained glass window behind him that shone through colours of sapphire blue, crimson and porcelain white onto the floor before him. Those nobles privileged enough had been invited to see the infamous Kirklands that the sorcerers' community whispered about. The sick excitement was high and even the reserved Emperor was sporting a rare satisfied smile.

Vlad felt sick, and so did Commander Roderick; the man was pale as bone and his forehead had acquired a waxy layer of sweat. The both of them knew that the mission had been a disastrous failure, and they were terrified. Four alive Kirklands were meant to be brought through those doors, but only one would draw breath. The event of his betrayal replayed in a constant loop in Vlad's mind, each time he heard the young Arthur's scream and saw the arrow pierce through Seamus' throat he felt his stomach churn and threaten to heave up bile on the spotless floor before him.

A sudden anticipated hush swept throughout the hall as the double doors were thrown open and four guards marched in, dragging two bodies between each pair of them. The silence shifted from anticipation to horrified tension as the bodies were laid out for display, only one of the chestnut haired youths struggled and showed signs of life. All panicked eyes jumped from the Kirklands to the Emperor to see his response. What was seen was a mask of nauseated trepidation.

"Where are the other two? Where is Arthur Kirkland?" The Emperor demanded in a stifled voice, his entire frame frozen and stiff as his violet irises' uncharacteristically shrank with fear. Upon his last words, the hall suddenly grew cold as if a inaudible blizzard had entered. The late afternoon sunlight visibly dimmed to a muted stormy grey and as the temperature plummeted, the people of the crowd dropped to the floor with their eyes rolling into the back of their skulls. The shadows in the corners of the subdued hall rose, loomed and converged together in front of the Emperor's throne. Vlad shrank within himself and he began to violently tremble as he felt something very _wrong_ enter the hall. Something that was not of the earthly realm.

The thing, this Presence, was a figural mass of shadows that twisted and distorted. The space around it became a vacuum that pulled at the nearby nobles' life forces; the flames that were too weak to endear it's subzero gravity were snuffed out, leaving the once warm bodies empty of life. The presence whirled searchingly to look down at the Kirklands. When it saw what it was looking for was not there, a rapid torrent of angry hissing noises rippled out from it as it spun to confront the wavering Emperor. The man defensively sprang to his feet, a foreign expression of petrification gripped him. With a quivering finger he pointed at the Kirklands.

"No! It is not yet lost! The contract is still valid, we can still work with this. They are his brothers, ask!" The Emperor shouted at the mass of shadows, his chest heaved under distress. Vlad felt his heart battle to beat as the presence slowly turned. As it moved forward, it's shape sharpened so that it distinctly became that of a slender tall man with long smooth sheets of hair.

Laid out against the polished stone floor beside his dead brother, Dylan Kirkland tried to force his frantically hammering chest to calm, though the task was impossible when the presence in front of him radiated distilled malevolence down at him. It crouched, and a thin, almost skeletal, hand slipped and closed around Dylan's twitching Adam's-apple. The grip tightened as it raised him up by his throat, Dylan's head fell back as his strength left him. His lungs screamed for oxygen that he could not inhale.

The presence inclined it's head at Dylan before it said something in it's strange serpentine tongue. Barely able to draw breath, Dylan somehow managed to shake his head to indicate he did not understand and the presence's grip loosened it's tightness as though it realised it was preventing Dylan from replying. The second youngest Kirkland gasped hungrily as air rushed back down into his starved lungs, the nauseating black spots that had began to appear in his vision disappeared as his brain was slowly replenished with oxygen.

"You are Gisil's spawn?" The presence's warped molten voice interrogated in common tongue, it's hold squeezed threateningly as it raised Dylan so his bare feet were lifted off the floor. Dylan whimpered as the presence's clamping fingers dung painfully into his jaw. He weakly opened his mouth where his tongue was in danger of sliding back and choking him.

"Go..to hell" Dylan rasped as bravely as he could, his bravo seeping from him and he wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep up the act. The presence gave out a reverberating black chuckle and without warning, slammed Dylan down against the floor, the smoothed surface cracked from the brutal force and Dylan felt hot thick liquid wet and pool at the back of his head. "I'm going to die here" Dylan hopelessly resigned as the presence leaned down to speak again.

"So crude. Exactly like your maggot of a father," The presence disdained before it raised it's voice to address the Emperor without looking away, "The Fates smile on you, mortal. I see an opportunity in this turn of events. Have these bodies crystallised, I will have use for them at a later time"

Dylan stared up at the presence in panicked alarm and squirmed under it's clutches, "You..bastard. What do… you want from us?" He wheezed breathlessly, he could of sworn he felt the presence cruelly smile down at him.

It moved it head closer so that it was inches from Dylan's, "From you? Don't think yourselves so important. It's not what I want from you mud monkeys, but rather, your brothers". Dylan's breath hitched and his heart pounded against his ribcage as he thought of his other two brothers and their unknown fates.

"Wha-what, do you…want with..Allistor and..Arthur?" Dylan managed, his thick eyebrows furrowed when the presence actually shook from laughter before he spoke disturbingly in an exhilarated cooing voice, as if speaking of a lover.

"Ah, _Arthur~,_ my little miracle given flesh. He was never meant to live among you swine, be touched by your filthy hands. As to what I desire from him is simple. I desire _him,_ all of him in body, mind and spirit. Your brother belonged to me long before he was born. He. Is. Mine. And I will tear apart this wretched world and anyone who dares try to hide him from me, molecule by molecule" The presence tightened his grip on Dylan's throat, the Kirkland wriggled and writhed beneath the unbreakable grip. When the shadowy man above him spoke again, his voice dropped and dripped with pure acidic venom.

"As to the other one. The eldest, the one you name Allistor. He will die. Excruciatingly, painfully, and slowly. I going to shatter open his mind, vandalise his memories and all while, Gisil Kirkland will _watch_. I will tear him apart from within his own mind until he is but an empty shell of himself, before stripping him of his Name of Power from his broken form. It will be only when he begs for the sweet release of death, will I _finally_ allow him to thrust a rusted pipe through his neck. Once I am done with him, I will do the same to you. And then, it will be Gisil's time. Each and every one of you will all die screaming in agony by my hand. This _,_ is your unchangeable future"

Thick, hot tears spilled from the Dylan's peridot shimmering eyes. A quick death was kinder then what this presence had planned for him. Dylan's numb body seemed to shut out, completely unresponsive when the presence let go of his throat. Distantly Dylan heard the presence that had promised to eradicate his whole family repeat it's order before it turned back to look at him one last time.

"Goodnight, spawn of Gisil" It purred with a sharp snap of its fingers, and Dylan Kirkland dropped unconscious into an induced slumber. Barely able to hold on to reality any longer, Vlad felt his own eyelids unwillingly slide shut and eventually he to gave in to darkness. The next time he had awoken, he was in a cell and Seamus and Dylan Kirkland were no where to be seen.

* * *

The North, The Nordic Kingdom, Vladimir Popescu's cell

A drop of water fell, and landed in a bucket of water with a loud _plop!_ The drop's echo bounced and refracted inside the imprisonment cell, the only movement, or even sign of life after Vladimir had finished his tale. All five men were motionless, minds struggling to process the information just told to them. Alfred was the first to speak.

"Holy shit," He breathed as fear clawed at him, nausea causing him to sway unsteadily on his feet, "Ho-ly shit". His words seemed to spur partially spur everyone out of the trance of shock, behind him, Matthew deeply inhaled a shaky breath and extended a hand to lean against the wall to steady himself.

Lukas reached out and gripped Allistor fiercely on the arm, his arm trembled uncontrollably, "Allistor, it can't be can it? It _can't_ be". Alfred looked between the two and sensed something unspoken between them, something of monumental weight. It took Allistor a whole minute of staring lost into space before he responded.

"Lukas, lock tha door an' cast a noise sealing spell. No one outside these four walls must know of this" He whispered in a coarse voice with his back still away from everyone save Vladimir. Without a word, Lukas crossed the room and did as Allistor had instructed. He remained by the door when Allistor turned and walked to the left edge of the room to slump down with his head in his hands. There was a pregnant drawn out pause.

"Most of ya in this room by now know that Arthur is not merely a sorcerer like myself and Lukas, but a hybrid of Angel an' Human. The truth of how he came to be is unknown ta me. But I will tell you all of what happened the night his mother, Victoria, brought him ta Earth…". And Allistor told his story as Vladimir had told his. He spoke quietly of how the Seraph Archangel had suddenly arrived at their little cabin and made his old man promise to hide Arthur from those searching for him. He spoke of how the Archangels fought and how Victoria had threatened to unleash her Blade upon Haldis if he didn't retreat, how the traitorous Fallen Seraph had sworn that he would eventually claim Arthur as his. Allistor recounted his father's and the Seraph's departure softly, describing her beautiful golden features and otherworldly beauty with a certain fondness. When he had finished telling the calamitous romance, he took a deep breath and stared at the floor as he thought, unaware of his awestruck audience.

"To learn that the Emperor was under that devil's thumb along, " Allistor spat, "this causes some of the puzzle pieces fit together. Without a doubt, it was that bastard Angel's idea to have our people wiped out. It was the most effective way of tracking down Artie". When Allistor looked up to see why no one had said anything in response, he saw the gathered men with thunderstruck expressions. Vlad's story had confused them, Allistor's had blown their minds. Angels? Gods? A war between Heaven and Hell? It was too much to take in one go. Sighing heavily, Allistor got up to go to the door. He paused with his hand on the handle.

"I understand that this is a lot ta take in. Hell, I still can't completely wrap ma mind around it. Once ya come to terms with it, come find me. I have tha beginnings of a plan". With those parting words, Allistor Kirkland dispelled the locking and noise spell and yanked open the cell door, causing the posted guards outside to near jump out of their skin. He proceeded to strode back down the narrow corridor, his green cloak bellowed out around him and the cell he had left behind, remained silent long after he had returned above ground.

* * *

The some puzzle pieces begin to slide into place, while others become more jumbled. So, we learn of Dylan and Seamus' fate alongside a critical piece of information about the Emperor, what could this contract be that he spoke of?

I have faith that most of you readers will be bale to put together who the 'presence' is, particularly from their speech and language. I won't give away details, but I will say that what we see is a projection, not the actual thing.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story and if to see it long continue, then please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again thank you for reading and as always,

until next time folks!


	28. Chapter 28 - Gisil Kirkland

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 28! Woohoo, time for more answers and plot advancement!

Question Time!

SecretParadox Hatsuki asks: How can Haldis enter Earth? Aren't the gates of Heaven and Hell closed?

Yes, the gates are very much sealed shut. No Angel or Fallen Angel can physically get into Earth. However that is not to say there aren't other ways to interacting with the Earthly realm. Haldis has showed one way, through the use of a contract with Ivan (you are almost dead on for his desperate reasoning for doing so). In one of the upcoming arcs, we'll see other ways which the heaven and hell beings make their presence.

Chiisaioni asks: Are the Emperor's powers his own or did he acquire them through his contract?

The Emperor doesn't have any supernatural powers of his own, but through the use of the contract, Haldis was able to give him a certain ice demon that he would be able to summon in battle. Ivan holds strategic value to Haldis, for without, Haldis would not have a connection to Earth.

Alright and that's all for questions, now let's go onto the chapter!

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chamber

Allistor threw open the chamber door, and stormed into his dimly lit room. The nippy room was a mess and inside, a little northern maid that had been picking up his discarded pieces of clothing gave a high squeak that Allistor's unexpected entrance. The Scot regarded her irritably, unable to conjure up any patience in his foul mood that the topic discussed in the dungeon had brought.

"Why are you here?" Allistor demanded as he strode across the room to his triangular window, kicking away anything that lay in his warpath. The petite maid gave a hiccup of nerves and timidly held up the crumpled shirt she had picked off the floor.

"Um, uh- I, I was ordered, to um, clean up in, here…" She stammered with downcast doe eyes, her white gloved hands held together in front of her apron as she bowed. Allistor tusked and turned his head to look at his view of the snow topped turrets.

"Well, y'ar services are no longer required. Leave" Allistor rudely dismissed with a flippant wave of his hand, feeling a slight pinch of regret when the maid gave another squeak of fright. Giving another quick bow, she dashed for the door and pulled it closed behind her; her dainty footsteps didn't slow down as she ran down the hallway. Allistor groaned as he ran a hand down his rough face, the regret became stronger. He knew he shouldn't of been that rude to a lady, the old man haven't taught him that. It had been Vladimir's story about that Fallen angel. To learn that he was the puppet master behind everything that had happened, it was almost too daunting to comprehend. Vladimir had said that the angel also had Dylan and Seamus, or at least their bodies, and had 'crystallised' them? The mere idea seemed farfetched at best, and so Allistor was reluctant to take Vladimir's delirious word on the matter. He'd wait for more solid evidence before even considering any idea of rescue.

With a sigh, Allistor moved to his overcrowded desk and grabbed a piece of lime green chalk laying on it. With a sweeping arm, he scattered the rest of the desk objects clattering onto the floor and began to draw out a summoning magic circle; Arthur's magical branding sigil at it's centre. The summoning spell was universally helpful for retrieving lost items, with anything that bore the summoner's sigil would gradually materialise at the centre of the circle. As soon as he had finished and fuelled the spell with his mana, Allistor slumped down on his bed as the green firefly-like magic particles rose from the circle and got to work.

As he fell back against his fur covers, Allistor remembered the night Arthur had stopped and he ran his fingers through the soft strands, before twisting them into a tight grip. His heart hurt, the memory painful to remember. With a frustrated noise, Allistor kicked off his boots and rolled over in his cot. The sudden urge to sleep lulled him as he shuffled and shifted a couple of times of get comfortable, before he closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply. Within seconds Allistor sank into his mindscape, and was immediately thrown into a vision at a speed too swift to be natural.

* * *

Allistor Kirkland's Mindscape, The Elder Grove, ?

The upper regions of the Elder Grove were naturally beautiful even in the winter. The towering dark green pines were iced with white puffs and more of the stuff blanketed the ground. All of the Isle's woodland animals were in deep hibernation far underground while the air above was still and clean. Silence would of reigned if not for the soft crunching of snow against heavy snow boots and paws. A wintry clothed man carried an unconscious figure slumped on his back as he walked on through the forrest. He had a wild warrior look about him, with a long mane of fiery copper that had been barely tamed into a ponytail and hardened survivalist eyes of greek fire; lapis celtic tattoos covered his thick forearms and broad chest under his leather armour and basil green cloak.

Beside him padded a magnificent griffin, it's upper half that of a noble bald eagle and it's lower a golden lion. The man and beast walked together quietly along the border of a hushed lake, enjoying the scenery as they walked to their intended destination. The griffin swung it's massive head to look at the sleeper on his companion's back, oddly the green cloak and matching gauntlets he had been wearing gone.

The young one they had rescued from the human airship was lost inside a drugged slumber. The angel hybrid's face was relaxed as he breathed evenly and the griffin knew that no physical force would be enough to wake him. It was troubling, for the half angel gave off a unrestrained blazing bonfire of an aura. As they walked, the griffin knew that every creature even remotely sensitive to the supernatural had it's eyes or mind on the youth they guarded. The griffin looked closely at the youth's short choppy golden locks and his trailing cotton white wings. A glint of fondness gleamed in the creature's marigold irises as he focused on his serene face.

 _"_ _He looks like just her… Pity he inherited the eyebrows though"_ The griffin commented inside his companion's mind, mentally chuckling when he felt a spark of hurt at the sensitive mention of the facial feature on the other end.

"Oi, leave him be Grif. He's got enough on his plate as it is without ya badgerin' him" The man huffed and hoisted the dreamer's frame up higher, the blonde's head bounced at the movement. Over by edge of the lake they walked by, a bubble disturbed the water's tranquil surface and sent out ripple of unsettling waves. The griffin turned it's vision to the lake and narrowed it's predator eyes.

" _You are aware that they've been following us since you landed with the boy?"_ Grif informed as they continued to stroll. A smile curled onto the man's lips and he looked to his old friend.

"Aye. I've been wonderin' if they'd hav' tha courage ta do so"

" _Do you want me to take care of them?"_

"No, I'll listen ta what they hav' ta say. They are more wary of I, then I am of them" The man airily returned as he also looked to the lake, tightening his grip on the lad when he saw five heads emerge close to bank. It was a band of Merfolk, consisting of three female huntresses and two aquatic people were dressed in their traditional hunting garb of bone jewellery and their darkened lips were pulled back slightly to reveal their pointed teeth. One particular merman swum to the front of their line and rose himself higher out of the water. He raised a deeply tanned arm in welcome but his berry red eyes were guarded.

"Haul! Gisil Kirkland, Almighty Vanquisher of the High Witch Queen Morgana the Malignant" The merman called out in greeting, his fellows stirred nervously and their slitted eyes watched the sorcerer and griffin alertly. Gisil smiled in amusement at the merman's direct approach, wondering if they knew they were not as undetectable as they thought. He mirrored the greeting gesture.

"Haul! Prince Allen Dorian, second born of His Majesty, King Neptune of Atlantis. Of what news and purpose are ye here by?". The prince of the merfolk, Allen Dorian, gulped as he meet the intimating gaze of the man who even his father was cautious not to offend.

"The competition for my King father's favour still continues, with myself and my brothers all competing to bring him the rarest gift. The contest has escalated, only last new moon did one of my brothers present him the pelt of a Basilisk. I must find something unparalleled if I am to secure my future throne…Which is what brings me here, the Angel of Gaia on your back. Should I present such a legendary creature before my father, I will most certainly be chosen as the next King" Allen explained, his eyes held a hunger as they slid onto Arthur.

"Y'ar enthusiasm is admirable, young prince. Yet I regret ta inform ya that laddie here is under ma personal protection, an' I hav' no obligation ta negotiation" Gisil announced with a tangible threat in his tone. Over in the water, the merfolk murmured secretively among each other. One of the mermaids with silver hair slid closer to the prince and leaned in to whisper in his pointed ear.

"My Prince, he is but one man, burdened and weighed down by the Angel. Give the order and we shall retrieve your prize" She quietly slithered in their home language, the prince's guard nodded in agreement at her bold invasive suggestion. Allen's eyes remained fixed on the sorcerer as he privately answered with lips that barely moved.

"No. We retreat for now. It is a death wish to cross the man who has stayed beings more powerful than we. We will take the Angel when he isn't protected as well," Allen whispered to his huntress before he raised his voice to readdress Gisil, "I do not need a seer to predict the outcome of a battle between us, sorcerer. I will withdraw for now, and pray the next time we meet, it will be in lighter air".

With that, the prince of Atlantis sank down below the chilled lake's surface; his guard followed swiftly behind with eyes of poison. Gisil waited until he felt their presence completely vanish before he turned back to Grif with a confident smirk, "Told ya they'd be wet behind tha ears". The griffin rolled his great eyeballs as resumed their steady pace through the thick forrest. They walked and walked on no path until they reached the invisible boundary that marked the beginning of the oldest part of the Elder Grove. The oldest part, or the 'Deep Grove', was the residential home of Fae and was ruled by King Oberon of Fae and his Queen Titania. Their fantastical kingdom was hidden from the outside world by wards of repelling and masking, though such wards made no difference to Gisil Kirkland as he by passed the enchantments; his magic was much too strong to be stopped by the quaint spells. The sorcerer and company crossed over into the Fae Kingdom of Avalon and took a moment to behold the sight before them.

The woodland sloped into gentle low valleys of white with the trees of the Grove thinning to reveal the majestic buildings built in the style of elven architecture. The columned halls were open to wintry weather and constructed of chiselled stone and birch wood. Bubbling streams ran under low footpath bridges and little lit lanterns of yellow protected the interiors from the cold. Gisil closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale, and when he opened them again, the King of Fae was in front of him. The King was of a slender build, clothed in robes of pearl and a silver diadem of leaves rested upon his temples. He had an angular face that possessed a air of alien beauty, with irises that were the colour of starlight blue and wispy sheer sheets of white gold fell past his shoulders. His expression was initially hard until he recognised who had passed onto his bounders, his hand relaxed from it's grip on his sword.

"Gisil Kirkland, and here I had seen the last of you" The King sighed and raised his hand in a halting, the swarm of firefly lights that had tore up after their King paused at his shoulder. Gisil smiled his relief that the King had remembered him, his biggest worry had been that he would of forgotten and refused them entry. The number of safe locations he could hide Arthur were so few already.

"Greetings, King Oberon of the Fae. The last time we met had been under the last solar eclipse, two hundred and fifty years ago methinks" He called out in response, tensing slightly when the King's eyes moved to focus on Arthur and narrowed on his wings.

"What have you brought into my land, Kirkland?" The King cautioned, his voice hostile and the swarm of fae guard became to buzz in response to the King's mood. Beside him, Grif ruffled his wings out to ready them if flight was needed to pull the Angel out of the cross fire. Gisil unhooked one his arms from holding up his son and held it out to the King in an expression of peace.

"Peace. He is my son, Arthur, and is of Angel blood. I brought him here to ask for help. He has been cast into a slumber that I fear I cannot shake off alone". The King's brows uncreased and curiously motioned for Gisil to come closer. As Gisil walked, inside his mind Grif spoke.

 _"_ _Can I trust you to keep yourself out of trouble? I fear that the gate has been left unchecked for too long already"_

"Aye, return. I'll be able ta handle things here" Gisil telepathically replied and heard the breezy swoosh that told him Grif had taken off. As he came to a stop beside the King, the latter peered closely at the limp Arthur and his expression softened as he surveyed the sleeping face; smiling lightly at how human the angel looked. He brushed aside Arthur's blonde bangs and rested the back of his willowy hand against the pale forehead.

The King nodded, "I see. He is indeed within a deep sleep. You were right to seek me out. This will not be broken easily". Gisil bowed his head gratefully at the silent invitation and followed the Fae King as the royal began to walk down to his small Kingdom. The tiny fairies that had swarmed to their King's side now danced closer to Arthur; the spritely ladies giggled as they braided his golden strands into plaits and poked at his cheeks.

* * *

The Elder Grove, The Deep Grove, The Royal Lake House

Away from the bustle of the kingdom, Gisil Kirkland ducked low under the short rounded doorway and stepped into the royal lake house the King had led him to. It was a cosy place, with the main room largely round in structure with wooden support beams that held up the carved dome ceiling. The walls were mosaically tiled and shelves of ingredients and dried herbs hung from the walls; two mystery doors were to the left of a raised fire hearth on the oppose wall. There was a workbench and cauldron at the centre of room and out over the misty lake, a wide wooden dock-porch stretched out. A small youngling fairy boy was knelt down scrubbing the floor as they entered and he jumped up nervously to bow to his King.

"Bring forth us drink, dining furniture and comfortable bedding for our young friend here. Set it down by the lake, and make sure it's large enough for his wings to fit alongside him" The King commanded and the boy servant immediately shrank into his sprite form and flew out to acquire the items his King desired. Not even moments later, fairies in their human form came dashing in with the requested furniture. They set down a wide circular cushioned cot on the dock-porch where the King had directed and the table and chairs faced out to the lake; a spread of fruit, cheese and bread was laid across the table with a set of crystal glasses and a bottle of vintage berry wine.

Gisil patiently waited until the servants had cleared out before he paced over to the cot and carefully laid Arthur down on his stomach, head resting on his arms and wings loosely sheltering him like a blanket. The air that ran across the clear cold lake was crisp and refreshing, it's magic tinged breeze soul cleansing.

Gisil stayed knelt for a minute and affectionately ran a hand through Arthur's hair, listening to his steady breathing. Pity stabbed at Gisil as he looked down his defenceless boy. Life had too cruel to him. "Poor Artie" Gisil sighed to himself as he took his hand back and turned to accept the extended filled glass from the Fae King. He swished the wine before he took a long drink, and immediately held it out to have it filled again. The King's dark slick eyebrows rose a fraction before he poured.

"You are welcome to stay here with your blood as long as you need to. You are our guest and of course will have your privacy. Though there is one in my Kingdom that I cannot securely account for," The King warned with a darkened gaze as he looked between Gisil and Arthur, "my Queen, Titania"

"An' why should I be worried?" Gisil scoffed as he raised the glass to his lips and took the next drink more slowly; the dark red water soaked into his upper bearded lip. The King let out a deep sigh and his old age could be briefly glimpsed across his flawless face.

"She desires a child, but is unable to conceive her own" The King sadly revealed with forlorn. Gisil actually laughed, but stopped when he saw that the King was serious.

"Ya think she'll actually try an' take Artie from me?"

"Do not underestimate the maternal instinct, Gisil. She is desperate for what she can never have. Titania can be cunning when she wants to be, and relentless at the worst of times. It would be wise not to leave your son unguarded for any given moment" The King warned with enough force behind his words that Gisil felt his lingering good mood leave him. He nodded.

"I understand…Thank you Your Majesty, for taking us in an' tha help y'ar providin'". The King bowed his head and set his glass down on the tabletop before he elegantly glided to the door.

"Without you, Gisil, and your family's assistance, my kingdom would of fallen during the Great Witch War. For this we are eternally grateful for. So please, take all the time you need. Use this time to recover your strength. In the morning I will have breakfast brought down for you both, along with some books that I believe will be helpful to you". The door softly closed as the King vanished, leaving Gisil and Arthur alone. There was an element of stillness before Gisil inhaled and let out a heavy breath. He swiftly unclasped his cloak and gear, setting the items down on the middle workbench so that he was left in his snow boots, sheep skin leggings, baggy shirt and leather jerkin. He rolled back his muscular shoulders before he stepped outside, muttering under his breath spells of detection and protection as he bordered the lake house with defences.

Once he was positive there were no holes in his warding, Gisil realised that the moon had already risen when he tramped back inside. He breezed past the fire hearth, igniting the logs with a snap of his fingers, and marched past the merrily blazing flame into the first door. The door opened to a quaint bedroom with a plain mattress and bedding, in the corner was a massive rectangular wardrobe with intricate carvings. Gisil beelined for the bed and gripped the bedding and pillows to drag them into the central room, setting down the sheets in front of the fire hearth. He straightened up and groaned when his back grew out a soft pop. Gods, he was getting old.

He went over and began to eat at the food left on the table, picking particularly at the fine cheese and fresh bread loaf. With his rumbling belly full, Gisil snatched up the wine bottle and collapsed onto his warmed bedding. The fire flickered and cracked as he swung at the bottle and chugged down it's alcoholic contents. He finished with a gasp for air and half set down, half dropped the bottle by his side, before he propped himself up against the raised hearth; the position deliberate so that Arthur was in sight. Gisil blenched as he set his head back, closed his tired eyes before he spoke in a smug dozed voice.

"Alright laddie. Ya know where he is, come an' get him"

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Allistor Kirkland's Chamber.

Allistor snapped up in his bedroom, heaving for air as he sat hunched over to regain his breath with his mind running a mile a minute. Arthur wasn't in the Capital, his Name was safe. Allistor touched his hammering heart and willed it to slow so that he could think clearly. Arthur was safe. Arthur was in the Fae Kingdom, in some kind of coma that he couldn't wake from, with the old man no less! The old man who had knew that Allistor was scrying him, albeit it was unintentional, and had even invited him to retrieve Arthur.

"That cocky bastard" Allistor growled as he rose off his bed and fumbled for clothes; over on his desk he saw that Arthur's cloak, hidden-blade gauntlets and his magic book and it's harness had successfully materialised. Despite the sharp awakening Allistor felt revitalised, he had a lead to his goal. Arthur was in the Deep Grove, and yet, there was no physical way to get there. Walking in like the old man had was not an option. Allistor wasn't as confident about his magic capacity as Gisil had been. No, there was something else. Something the old man had intentionally showed him.

Allistor sat down crosslegged on the flagstone floor and closed his eyes to mediate on the vision. Keeping his mind empty, he slowly replayed the sequence. Nothing incredible stuck out to him, until he came to the part where Gisil had gone into the little bedroom. Allistor watched and slowed the replay down as he felt his mind being steadily drawn to something else in the room. His gaze moved away from Gisil to the corner of the room where the large wardrobe stood. Allistor examined it closely to memorise the craving of leaves and trees, his eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw that there was rune scratches in-between them. Runes of connection and binding, the realisation that came to Allistor clicked together: the wardrobe was one of a pair.

Allistor opened his eyes and his pupils and mind snapped into focus. The wardrobes were his portal into the Fae Kingdom. All he had to find the other one.

* * *

Answers! Questions! Onward Allistor, to adventure! Gosh I love world building so much. So firstly we learn that the shadowy figure that rescued Arthur was indeed Gisil, hats off to all who guessed right. Second, we are given more in depth information about Allen, prince of Atlantis and the reasoning behind wanting to kidnap our favourite Brit. And finally, we are introduced to the Kingdom of the Fae and it's ruler, alongside a snapshot of a history lesson and a warning about future conflict. All in all, a productive chapter if I do say so myself.

 **Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this series and wish to see more, please consider leaving a review to tell me about your thoughts, opinions and questions about my work. Below I have a included a short story that tells of the events of the Great Witch War referenced in this chapter for anyone who wants more context :) Once again thank you for reading, and as always,**

 **Until next time folks!**

Short Background Story: Hetalia - The Great Witch War

The Great Witch War is an event in the story timeline that takes place before Arthur's birth and the murder of the late King Jean Epine. It was a massive war between the witches and the other supernatural races, hidden away from human eyes. A secret war between witches and all other supernatural creatures that was battled away from the eyes of humans.

The war began when all the separate witch clans dotted about the Isles united under a powerful malevolent Witch Queen named Morgana. The witches, amazed by her strength, had raised her to 'High Witch Queen' and Morgana began her conquest against the other magical kingdoms that opposed her absolute view: that witches were the rightful inheritors of Earth; having the supposed 'strongest' magic. Avalon were the first to display open resistance and so were the first to be laid under siege, the Merfolk unable to rally to their allies side as their own watery home was dually under attack. It was a pressing time, no other race willing to step up in fear of focusing Morgana's wrath onto themselves. Finally, unable to continue witnessing, the Sorcerer's community gathered and declared that they would give aid to the Fae and Mer Kingdoms. Whose sorcerers who were skilled in combat went to battle, their numbers divided between defending Atlantis and Avalon.

Arthur and Allistor's grandfather, Iain Kirkland with his sons, Gisil and Ellair as masterful hunters rose up among the sorcerer warriors and led their army at the Battle of Dead man's Canyon. Amongst the blood and chaos, Morgana herself entered the fray, determined to end the bloodline that had thwarted her efforts at domination. Iain, Gisil and Ellair met her on the battlefield and engaged in a fearsome duel with her. Though as powerful as they were, the Kirklands knew to kill a Witch Queen was no easy task. They fought with valour, but all seemed lost when Morgana landed a mortal wound on Iain, and turned on the two brothers ready to spring them from their mortal coil.

With his heart failing him, Iain reared up behind Morgana and tackled her to pin her down, bellowing at his sons to finish her. Gisil had ran forward, scooping up a fallen broadsword and leaped high to behead the Witch Queen. Morgana went berserk and clawed Iain off her, delivering the fatal blow and Iain Kirkland fell dead to the ground; his blood soaking into the thick churning mud. She spun ready for Gisil with nails of daggers when Ellair threw himself forward before the blow to save his younger brother. Morgana's hand speared through Ellair's heart, killing him instantly. Gisil Kirkland screamed in blind grief and rage as his brother dropped dead. He swung his blade down and before she had even had time to curse, freed Morgana the Malignant's head clean from her shoulders. The dark head had fell, bounced and rolled, the eyes still open wide with horror and pooling black blood poured from the gaping mouth.

There was silence across the field as the witches realised their High Queen had been vanquished, before their howls resumed as the sorcerers rushed forward and swiped out the last of them. No prisoners of war were taken. Gisil had fallen to his knees and bitterly wept for his slaughtered kin long after the battle was over; only stirring when his fellow sorcerers came to take the bodies. Iain and Ellair were given the noblest send off, their funeral boats pushed out across water and countless flaming arrows had rained down upon them; Gisil had traditionally shot the first, his three sons and fatherless nephew by his side. The blazing boats were drifted to the water's end, before they had tipped over the Isle's edge and fell down into the bottomless space below.

The Kirkland name became legendary that day, revered and respected by all creatures. The name was whispered, their stories awed at around late campfires. Gisil continued to hunt the dark and teach his blood the ways of a hunter, seemingly to drift through life when only a decade later, he chanced upon an Angel beneath a willow tree...

To be continued?


	29. Chapter 29 - The War Meeting

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 29 and it's a double upload this week! A big thank you everyone who reviewed, you are the driving force of this story. Get ready for them politics, because da power plays are real fo' sho'!

Enjoy!

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The corridor to Allistor Kirkland's chamber

Alfred Jones wandered down the stretched corridor like a lost man. He certainly felt lost, like a little thrown rock in a whirlpool. As he aimlessly wandered alone, Alfred had taken to quietly talking to himself under his breath, so involved in his own world that he didn't see the weird glances shot at him by passersby. He'd state the facts. Keep it organised and straight. Though, it'd always get messed up along the way.

"State what you know, just do that, state what you know like how Dad did," The American muttered over to himself like a mantra. "I know that Arthur is gone. Captured," Good. Good start. Well, not good, but at least comprehensible.

Okay, next. "He has Angel wings. H-he went into some kind of frenzy… and I saw it". And he had seen it; seen how Arthur incinerated apart that Deadmen. His neck twitched painfully in memory of the harm Arthur had also caused him, reminding him that Arthur had nearly crushed it. As if he'd needed it. He'd forever have the discoloured fingerprint bruises to do that. How on earth could Angels actually exist? They belonged in myths with the Gods, not in real life. Don't think too much about it. State, testify what you know.

"Heaven and Hell are real. Demons and Angels are _real._ They are real and one of them is using the Emperor to viciously hunt down Arthur for gods-knows-what". Huh. That went from one to hundred real quick. Alfred sighed dejectedly as he stopped in front of Allistor's door and helplessly stared at it, as though hoping it would have the answers for all the craziness that was going on in his life. Where were the days when his biggest worry was missing a training drill back at the base? Alfred raised his hand to knock on the door when his clenched fist paused above the polished surface. Gods, was he actually ready to acknowledge that what Allistor had told him was true? Truthfully, Alfred wasn't sure. He wasn't like the sorcerers, he wasn't used to being bombarded with magical knowledge and then expected to immediately take it on board. He didn't live in a world like that.

But, Arthur did. Arthur would be shocked, sure, at the knowledge that Heaven and Hell were real, but he probably wouldn't have an existential crisis over it. Alfred gritted his teeth as he contemplated his own frustrating powerlessness. There were so many times when he felt so small compared to Arthur, an ant looking to a star. How could he ever stand by him as an equal… Alfred thickly gulped around the lump that had formed in his throat. No, he wasn't allowed to feel self pity. Not when Arthur needed him. He was a hero, and it was every hero's duty to help whose in trouble.

Alfred quickly swiped away the gathering wetness behind his glasses just before the door in front of him was flung open, Allistor Kirkland inside looking like a man on a mission. The Scot's eyes lit up when they saw the rebel and he shot forward to grip Alfred's shoulders painfully tight.

"Sunny boy! Perfect, y'ar onboard! Listen ta me, I'll explain later but have ya ever seen a wardrobe near Arthur? Big, square, has alotta cravings in on it" Allistor jabbered without taking a breath as he shook Alfred excitedly. Alfred shook his head at the sudden bombardment and pushed Allistor off him to give him space to think.

"Wait, wait. Hold up. stop…Wardrobe?" Alfred asked as he waved his hands out in confusion, his earlier laments had been slapped away by Allistor's forceful address. The sorcerer rolled his eyes at the other's fair slowness.

"Yes! A wardrobe, ya use them ta store clothes in. Have you ever seen one that could be related ta Arthur?"

Alfred paused and thought as he put the two images together. A lightbulb of remembrance lit up. "Yeah," He mused slowly, "Yeah, actually I do. Arthur had one in his apartment. Exactly like you said, big with cravings. It was in his bedroom". Alfred silently cursed as he let the last bit slip out and bit his tongue hoping Allistor wouldn't question how he knew what Arthur's bedroom was like. He felt that Allistor wouldn't see it innocently. Fortunately however, Allistor was too caught up in the momentum to sweat the small stuff. A ear splitting grin stretched across his face and he actually seemed to bounce on the spot.

"Fan-bloody-tastic laddie! We'll have him home in no time!" Allistor cried in joy as he clapped Alfred across the back and began to speed back down the corridor the way Alfred had come. Alfred was left there with a dumbstruck expression on his face before he shook his head again and spun to catch up with swiftly marched Allistor. He huffed as he struggled to keep level with him.

"Dude, _please_ explain. Have who home?" Alfred demanded as they exited and paced down the stairs. Allistor's merry twinkling eyes met Alfred's as they came to the bottom.

"Artie o' course"

"What!?" Alfred gasped in disbelief. "Arthur? But he's on an airship to the Capital. How the hell is a wardrobe in his apartment going to help?". Allistor grinned and winked mischievously.

"It's goin' ta help because wee Artie ain't on tha airship anymore. He's someplace safe, an' that wardrobe is that key ta getting there". Alfred felt his mouth hit the floor before relief and hope flooded him. Arthur hasn't going to be imprisoned, he was safe, and Allistor had a plan to reunite with him. Alfred met Allistor's wicked smile, when a figurative hurtle stopped him in his tracks. He grasped Allistor on the forearm to draw his attention.

"Dude, look count me in and everything, but there's a major problem. The whole kingdom is on lockdown after the attack. There's no way they'll let any ship in or out, the security is going to be the tight" Alfred brought up and Allistor's brows ceased in consideration.

"Aye, lad. Ya right. I'll need ta pull some serious strings if we've going ta get away with this," Allistor replied, his eyes darted curiously to a herd of noblemen that strode past them; noses posed to the skyward and badges of nobility shining. "Where'd ya reckon their goin'?"

Alfred leaned over to look at the men Allistor had pointed out. "War meeting with the King is the safest bet. His Majesty and Ludwig have been holding them a lot lately. They're probably on the verge of deciding something,". Allistor slowly turned to at Alfred with eyes that held a glint of a man with a plan, a cunning leer pulling at the corners of his mouth. "What? You have an idea?"

"Oh ho, quite tha plan sunny boy. I said I'd have ta pull strings, so why not aim for that top?" Allistor smiled and Alfred looked at the man with new respect at his boldness.

"Duuuude~, you're gonna try and play the King? The _King._ Jeez, that's straight up crazy man"

"Na lad. I'm not gonna try, I _am_ gonna play tha King outta a boat ta the Capital. Oh an' Vladdie's freedom, because I'm in such a good mood" Allistor confidently boasted as he looked for the nearest window and jogged over to it to cast it open; the snow whirled in and everyone within range grimaced at the invasive cold and looked at the sorcerer as if he were mad. Alfred laughed his amazement and joined Allistor by the window as the Scot proceeded to climb through it.

"That's a hell of statement bro. Good luck, I'll go and find Lukas and tell him the good news" Alfred chuckled as he gave the sorcerer a farewell salute and watched Allistor nod in response and began to scale the Palace's exterior to the upper levels. Alfred gave another private chuckle before he spun on his heels and dashed off to look for Lukas, his heart soaring the whole way at the promise of seeing Arthur once again.

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The War Room

High above in the rafters of the occupied war room, Allistor Kirkland stealthily climbed in through a rounded glass skylight. The Scot balanced catlike on the thick wooden rafter beams and a flurry spiralling snowflakes rushed in after him into the dusty loft just as he entered and carefully resealed the pane. The grey sunlight filtered through the transparent material and illuminated Allistor's path before him as he silently dropped to the lower rafters to get closer to the scene below, the back and forth exchanges of the Council's debate grew louder as he did.

Beneath Allistor from his bird's eye view, the Royal Council convened around a wide circular map table; scale models of airships and buildings of significance were placed about in their relevant sites. All council men were standing and King Simon stood with Berwald at his right hand and Ludwig on his left, Kiku next to him. The other men of the council were clearly lords and court men from their attires of expansion fur coats and quality leather boots. Some leisurely held small glasses of amber scotch in their ringed fingers as they watched the proceedings passively while others stood attentively with alert expressions as the discussion continued. From what Allistor could gather, the council had been split into two sides, each with a vocal speaker to argue their case as the King, Berwald, Ludwig and Kiku listened judgementally.

"This is preposterous! How can we be expected to mobilise when we haven't even fully recovered from the last assault" One side's speaker cried, a round bellied elder gentleman with creasing age lines and white puffs of hair behind his ears. As the council men on his side bobbed their heads in agreement, a younger man with neatly trimmed facial hair snuffed at the statement.

"Ha! Do you think so little of our glorious kingdom Casper? The only reason the Empire was able to inflict damage was because their approach was unexpected after years of isolation. If we were to reenforce the wall, we would sufficient have time to recruit and ready our own assault"

"I'm afraid, _Barner_ , that I have to disagree. Your Majesty, it is a fool's fancy to think that we can take on the Empire's might at full strength. They are too well manned, well supplied and well supported" The one named Casper argued with a slap on the table for each proclaimed point. The other side murmured uneasily among themselves as they became stumped. Surprisingly, it was Kiku that provided the new direction of the discussion.

"Then how about cutting off their resources? Cut roots before you take tree, as you say" The small asian man suggested soundly, his dark quietly intelligent eyes glittering as the cogs of his mind raced forward. The council men on the side of noble man, Caster, groaned.

"We cannot invade Newtown's Isle while it is under the protection of Cogs-Forge. Their technology is vastly superior to ours. We'd have no hope of winning by force"

"Then what about negotiation? We offer some of our natural resources for their cooperation and Newtown" Barner spoke up with a flamboyant wave of his hand only to have Casper shake his head in disagreement.

"Cogs-Forge is a city of industry and science. They pride themselves on being the discoverers of new age and modern technology. Everything, from the research to the factories and city itself is funded by the Empire. No amount of natural resources and money will be able to win a treaty with them". The whole table mulled over the laid out information; all eyes on the Cogs-Forge Isle painted on the map that hugged the coast of Newtown and it's model anti-aerial defences.

General Ludwig leaned over the table and tapped the Isle south of Newtown, shaped vaguely like a crude boomerang. "What about this Isle? Whose is this?"

"On it's surface it is an rural expansion of Newtown and specialises in the production of meat and fish. However, underground, a population of Dwarfs have built a mining city. The Dwarven city of Thornbor is ruled by King Kilmin Blackarm and they mine for precious metals and gems. They used to trade these with humans before Cogs-Forge attempted to starve them by claiming the surface for Newtown's expansion" King Simon explained, his knowledge about the Isle was impressive but not unexpected as it was a King's place to study the Isles and their history. A cultivating smile grew on Ludwig's face as he formulated his plan.

"Then why don't we use that animosity to persuade the Dwarfs to claim Newtown. Not only would we cut and control the Empire's major food production, but by doing so, it would also create an opening opportunity to attack Cogs-Forge while their forces are concentrated on recapturing Newtown. If they don't move or refuse to, they risk the Empire cutting their funding and destroying the only thing they were proud of". A chorus of excited mutters sparked up and Berwald gave Ludwig an approving look as to signal that it was a sound plan.

"But wait! What about the Jasmine and Lotus Isles? Do we not need to be cautious if they decide to become involved?" A cry came from a younger noble man, who then squeaked when all heads turned to him and nodded in consideration. Though he wasn't the most experienced in the tactical field, the man had raised a valid point. Berwald cleared his throat and the heads swung back to him as he pointed to the two Isles most southeast of the map; together akin to that of the Yin and Yang symbol.

"The Jasmine and Lotus Isles are currently battling an internal lawful campaign over the rising activity of the drug trade in Lotus. If Jasmine were not fighting to keep it from their borders, they would certainly rally to our side, though because of their desperate situation, I fear that they'll side with any Isle strong enough or wealthy enough to help them win" Berwald stated with his concerned eyes pointed on the Jasmine Isle that was so far away from their northern home. The talkative councilman named Barner sighed loudly and plucked up the scale model of the Restless City; a colossal mobile airship that specialised in trading routes and acted as it's own city; complete with towering buildings and bridges. A thriving community that was as alive as it was diverse.

"And what of the Restless City? It'd make a fine ally; it's prosperous, it owns the majority of the Isles' trade routes and most importantly, it has no strong love for the Empire".

"It would be a fine ally. Unfortunately, the Restless City will remain stubbornly neutral until they see an investment that is truly worth their efforts. Their city is expertly fortified and they'll never be intimated into an alliance. If we manage to persuade the Dwarf's to uprise and take Cogs-Forge, we'd steal their technology and become more desirable as allies should we offer to share it" Ludwig affirmed with confidence, his stance and aura was that of a natural leader as he dominated the table. A line formed between King Simon's eyebrows as he found a hole in the rebel general's plan.

"Your plan is well founded Ludwig, except there is a critical hurtle that threatens to unravel it before it can begin. The first step is to persuade the Dwarfs to rebel against Cogs-Forge, however this will prove easier said then done. Ever since Cogs-Forge turned on them, the Dwarfs have persistently shown hostility to all humans. Any found in their territory are killed". King Simon miserably pointed out, his perturbed cerulean eyes met Ludwig's steel blue ones. The general opened his mouth to respond but closed it again when no solutions came to mind. The table wavered as new uncertainty seemed to drown out the brilliance of Ludwig's plan.

Up from above, Allistor cracked a smile when he saw the beautiful opportunity before him and partially straightened up out of his crouch to jump. What he was about to do wasn't the wisest decision, but would certainly be the most hilarious. In a swift motion, Allistor stepped off the rafter and plummeted down to the table. He shot down and slammed against the wooden surface with such a force that it was a wonder that the table didn't crack under him. Outraged screams of shock and fright cried out from all the unsuspecting councilmen and some of the older ones actually tripped over themselves trying to scramble backwards. Allistor smirked his effect and remained squatting on his calves with both elbows balanced on them, a punk pose that oozed of rebelliousness. Berwald recovered at the speed of light with a shake of his head and fastened his furious glare onto Allistor.

"Allistor Kirkland, you dare sneak into a private council meeting?!" Berwald bellowed as he reached out as if to haul Allistor off the table when a resting hand from his King stayed him. King Simon oddly smiled after recovering from the initial shock of someone falling from the ceiling onto his table, his stare curious and intrigued. Allistor met the King's eyes and tipped his head to convey his respects, though his previous actions would suggest the opposite.

"Y'ar Highness"

"Allistor, I'm pleased to see you are back with us, though ha- this is hardly appropriate. This _is_ a private war meeting and reserved for only those on the council" King Simon informed, his words containing no anger at the sorcerer's unorthodox appearance. Since he had a soft spot for Lukas, the King had come to find all sorcerers fascinating and in his mind held them in very high regard. Berwald continued to glare at Allistor and from the corner of his eye, Allistor saw Ludwig eye him up with a calculating look.

"Aye, I figured. Though I couldn't help but over hear about y'ar little dwarf dilemma" Allistor smugly grinned, his smile stretching wider then he saw Berwald become further enraged about his ear dropping.

"They were not words for you to hear," Berwald growled with clenched fists, his fern green eyes flashed threateningly "I've half a mind to have you thrown out-"

"Berwald, enough," King Simon commanded in a sharp tone that matched his expression as he looked to his right hand "I want to hear what he has to say". Berwald pressed his lips tightly together as he switched his scowl back to Allistor, physically biting down the inside of his cheek in frustration when Allistor gave him the slyest of winks when the King wasn't looking. "Allistor, please, what are you proposing?".

"As y'ar aware, Dwarfs don't get on well with humans. Well I say, how about a sorcerer instead?" Allistor remarked as he combed a hand through his shaggy copper hair, pleased to see the King's expression light up at his offer.

"What, you're actually offering your services after years of abstaining otherwise?" A heavily sarcastic voice snidely remarked from behind him.

"Yes, why the sudden change of heart, sorcerer?" Another joined in. Allistor didn't bother to turn around to address them. They weren't worth the effort.

"Well let's just say I'm not exactly volunteerin'. I _do_ have a few conditions" Allistor clarified and multiple councilmen gave loud tuts and short barking laughs huffed at his forwardness.

"How presumptuous! Your head is too inflated Kirkland. You are not the only sorcerer in the north. There is Lukas Bolshevik and the newly captured one. You are expandable"

Allistor tilted his head back in a gesture of exasperation, giving out an exaggerated sigh before answering. "Oh aye. Send tha blind sorcerer that cannot fight for himself, or better yet, send tha prisoner of war. I'm _sure_ he won't desert tha chance he gets. Face it, I'm tha' only capable sorcerer ya half pints hav' got". A ripple of insulted gasps resounded down the table and everyone turned to look to the King for his response. Said royalty held up a hand for silence before he steadily met Allistor's gaze.

"Name your conditions, Allistor" The King questioned softly, turning his head to Berwald when he spoke up in outrage.

"Surely Your Majesty, you are not going entertain his vulgar demands". The King's expression became dark as his patience ran out, his voice turned low into a growl.

"For the last and final time, Berwald. _Enough_ ". There was an uneasy shuffling among the council at the King's direct anger, each man not wanting to look at the two. Berwald's chest heaved as he struggled to keep his temper, a vein on his forehead twitched as he forced himself to breath deeply to contain himself. Berwald clenched his square jaw and silently ground his teeth as he lowered his head submissively, his hands fidgeted in an effort not to shake the Scot by the neck.

"Your terms, Allistor" The King snapped now, his good temper ruined by Berwald's continued opposition. Allistor eyed the King up and down before inwardly cautioning himself not to push the man any further then he was.

"You may not of known, but during tha Imperial assault, Arthur was taken. My first request is to have a vessel ta take me to tha Capital where I plan ta rescue him. Ma second request is that the captured sorcerer, Vladimir Popescu, be released. He's a good man, a'd life has been too harsh ta him already". The King sighed and pinched the nose of his nose as he thought, his eyes screwed closed.

"I am sorry to hear of about Arthur. This grim news grieves me deeply, especially since you had been reunited so recently…The second condition I have no objection if you vouch for him, but with the first I have doubts. By going into the Capital, you to risk capture by the Empire, and I am not sure if we can take the loss of another sorcerer". Allistor's eyes became pleading and the green greek-fire inside them smouldered.

"Please Y'ar Highness. I am begging ya. I hav' scried his location, and while he is not _in_ tha Capital. He's here," Allistor stumped his index finger in the upper regions of the Elder Grove Isle "But my way to him is inside tha Capital. Once I get him, I find a ship out of tha Capital and make ma way ta the Dwarven City ta kickoff this plan of y'ars"

The King turned his head to Ludwig to see what his opinion was. The rebel general paused for a thoughtful moment before he spoke. "It is certainly a gamble. If you succeed, we'll gain two sorcerers to the cause. But if you fail, we lose another"

"Then I won't fail" Allistor growled with a tint of irritation. Who were these bastards to judge his skill? Ludwig raised his eyebrow at the aggressive promise before he gave a nod to the King. The Nordic King returned the gesture with smile and turned his head to share the happy expression with Allistor.

"That settles it then. Allistor, I'll have your vessel ready by dawn tomorrow. You are to infiltrate the Capital and do what it takes to rescue your brother. It will take two full moon cycles for the military to mobilise, you have until then to return with Arthur. In the meantime, I will release the prisoner you speak for". Allistor's face split into a grin and he actually bowed his head low to the King before he rose and stood up out of his crouch.

"Ya won't regret y'ar decision, Your Highness" Allistor thanked as he moved to step down, Ludwig and Kiku moved aside as he dropped off the table and proceeded to swagger past the disgruntled councilmen; all eyes followed his back as he disappeared through the double doors. The King loudly coughed to clear his throat and for attention.

"We now have the first key to starting the forwarded plan. Now that Allistor Kirkland has agreed to work for us, we will be able to create the opening in Cogs-Forge we desperately need. With their technological weapons and research, we will not only gain a tactical advance over the Empire, but also open many other pathways to us. As we wait, we must assemble our forces. Lord Hemming, please use the builders and their blueprints filed in section 1.3 in 'Construction' in the Archives to begin immediate construction on those deep bunkers. Master Barner, would you increase production in the mines and oil deposits? Alongside Mr DeWhite and his smithery factory, we are going to need that metal for weapons and airship parts. While you, Sir Hammock, expand the lumber production further into the outer regions of the forrest and intensify seal hunting. We are going to have to start to ration the food now so when it begins, we'll ready to hold out. These, men, are the first steps to war"

* * *

We have a war plan fellas! So, majorly setting up for the future, the rebel alliance have their game faces on. Writing Alfred's monologue was tricky, there were many ways that I could of gone about it. But I was fairly happy with it in the end, tried to keep the balance level. Allistor in the war room was fun, such a cocky asshole to superiors. Kirklands rarely have true respect for others.

 **Just to make a note, Hetalia - The Cold of War will be ending into roughly six chapters as this arc draws to a close. Worry not though, the sequel and third book in the series (whose title is yet to be decided) is sure to follow shortly after. I cannot wait for you all to continue the tale with me :D**

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are enjoying this series, please take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions if you'd like to. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	30. Chapter 30 - The Purest form of Love

Chapter 30! I live! (kinda). So apologies for the long delay with this chapter, however exams have hit and another chapter isn't likely until after they have pasted. I'm sure everyone can relate. Nevertheless, before delving onto the next chapter, let's answer some questions

Question Time:

TheEyebrowsOfFreedom asks: Why does Allistor share Gisil's accent but Arthur does not?

Arthur never grew up with Gisil, with Gisil leaving him to Allistor's care when he was thirteen years old (though he appeared to be three years old, as in human years). Arthur stayed and grew up quite sheltered with his brothers until he was fifty-two (in human years, twelve years old), when he and his brothers became distant due the unwanted attention Arthur received from other sorcerers. After their separation, he spent most of his time alone and having adventures of his own. Some of his fondest memories come from his time spent treasure hunting alongside pirate lord Afonso Carriedo (cousin to Antonio). The banked wealth cashed in from the discovered treasures was actually what ultimately allowed Arthur to survive in the Capital at sixty nine (sixteen), the money being what brought him the Tea Room and the apartment. Francis came into his life later on... and we'll be getting a flashback of it soon ;)

They also ask: Does Matty and Alfred know that Arthur is one hundred years old?

I like to think that Alfred hasn't completely understood the information and what it means for his feelings. I also feel that Matthew is in denial of it all, with him barely being comfortable with the idea of sorcerers. So to properly wrap his head around the whole new world of angels and demons and cosmic wars is a long way off.

Alright, and questions are done. And so, with no more delays here is the next chapter,

Enjoy!

* * *

Hetalia - The Cold of War

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, Outside the War Room

Allistor Kirkland strode out the doors like a man robed in victory, his brilliant glowing aura shone about him gloriously. His boots clopped against the flagstone flooring as he walked past the dallying maids and servants to the end of the hall, where fellow friends Lukas Bolshevik and Alfred Jones waited. Allistor greeted them with a toothy grin and a spring in his step as he strode up to his companions. The pair looked to him expectantly.

"Well? How'd it go?" Alfred immediately asked as he dropped his hand from his mouth, having regrettably slipped back into the nervous habit of biting his nails from his childhood. Allistor cocked his head to the side as he bounced a step and bit his lip mischievously.

"Oh aye, it went very well sunny boy. One airship ta the Capital, as I promised" Allistor sung with his Greek-fire eyes sparkling merrily as he thought back of his triumph in the room. Alfred let out a relieved sigh at the good news and turned his head to Lukas when the man made thoughtful noise.

"So Master Jones spoke the truth then. You truly do intend to rescue Arthur" Lukas mused with a half sigh colouring his words. Allistor looked to Lukas and nodded, despite knowing he wouldn't see it. To his back, the doors swung open again and the councilmen trickled out, quietly muttering under their breaths to one another. As the flock came within range of Allistor, Alfred and Lukas, a few pulled sneers and other expressions of disgust at the Scot as they passed by. One of the men, the middle-aged one named Casper, actually stopped at his shoulder to speak.

"You must be pretty impressed with yourself, sorcerer. I believe the last time someone dared to spy on a council meeting, lost their right hand" Casper disdained with a curled lip, his large hands clenched at his side. Allistor turned to look the noble man up and down and gave him his best cocky smirk.

"Good thing I'm not just 'someone' then, ain't it?" Allistor returned smugly and held back a laugh when he saw the Casper's face slowly start to redden.

"Oh-h, you! Just who do you think you are to talk to me like that!" Casper gasped in outrage and opened his mouth to give Allistor a piece of his mind when one of his colleges placed a shoulder on his trembling shoulder.

"It's no use friend. Let it lie. Sorcerers have no real respect for authority. We should leave and attend to the tasks His Majesty as assigned us. Oh, and sorcerer," he turned to glare at Allistor, "the King may of given you what you wanted, but do not forget to uphold _your_ end of the bargain. Remember who you're answering to now and do your job". Allistor icily glowered at the noblemen as they left to rejoin their fellowship, rounding the corner before they disappeared from sight.

"Allistor, what did you do? What did you promise them?" Lukas heavily scorned and crossed his arms over one another. Allistor shrugged and shifted his weight in discomfort. For all his hard face, Alfred didn't miss the telltale sign of Allistor's weakness.

"Ah, well ya see, it's a funny story but-"

"C'mon dude, just spit it out" Alfred interrupted in impatience, and instantly regretted it when Allistor shot a pissed look at him before he mellowed with a slump of his shoulders.

"I might of offered ta go to Newtown in exchange for our passage ta the Capital" Allistor gritted through his teeth and winced then Lukas and Alfred dually gave shouts of disbelief.

"What?! Why the hell would you want to go there?" Alfred blurted with a bewildered expression as he back peddled. Of all the things he had been expecting it hadn't been that!

Allistor scowled irritably. "General Ludwig an' tha King have a plan to invade Cogs-Forge, an' its involves me traveling ta Thornbor to persuade the Dwarfs ta rise up against it" Allistor explained with a squared jaw as he proceeded to tell his companions what had occurred in the war room… When he had finished, Alfred's jaw was hung open and Lukas was slowly shaking his head.

"Oh, Allistor. What have you done? Do you not remember the golden rule? Never, ever, get involved in politics. It _never_ ends well for us" Lukas despaired and rubbed the sides of his temples as he digested the disturbing news. Allistor rolled his eyes and huffed while Alfred shook his head frantically.

"Dude! Never mind whatever you just said. What about Arthur? I thought we were going to save him" Alfred demanded as he looked from Allistor to Lukas.

"Gods, give me strength! We _are._ Tha plan is ta sneak into tha Capital, get ta the wardrobe leading to Artie, sneak him out on a ship, drop him off back 'ere, and _then_ I go Thornbor alone. Got it?," Allistor laid down and raised his thick eyebrows when he saw Alfred gave him a doubtful look. "What?" He flatly demanded.

Alfred shrugged. "I just don't think Arthur would okay with you going off on your own, you know?". Allistor returned by making an irritated noise in his throat.

"I don't give a toss about what Artie thinks if it keeps him safe. That bastard Angel is out there controlling the bloody Emperor, with tha whole Kingdom acting as his god damn spies. There's not a chance in hell I'm letting him get within a mile of my brother," Allistor growled with such animalistic ferocity that Alfred had to repress the urge to take a step back. The Scot closed his eyes and proceeded to take in calming breaths before he turn to Alfred. "Look lad, I know ya mean well. But the key is get Arthur ta safety, and keep him there until I can figure out how ta deal with this all".

Lukas moved and rested a supporting hand on Allistor's arm, "You needn't to bear this burden alone Allistor…Come meet Vladimir and I after you're packed and ready. Don't leave without a word". Allistor nodded and watched Lukas go, the blind sorcerer's indigo cloak dragging across the floor as he did. He looked back to Alfred and a tired line formed between his eyes.

The rebel boy suddenly looked so young as he meet Allistor's stare. Gods. Had he always been that young? He was just a boy. A normal human that he and Arthur had been dragged into their messed up world. He didn't have to be involved, it wasn't his fight. He wasn't a sorcerer, no matter how much they treated him like one. He hadn't spent his entire life surrounded by the obscenity of the supernatural, and yet, Allistor had expected him to mentally adjust in the span of a few hours.

A brave solider boy. The lad that stood before Allistor went beyond that title. Despite knowing what dangerous lives sorcerers lived, the unwanted attention they drew, he had stayed by Arthur's side. After everything, he had stuck close. He'd been beaten, bruised, broken by the Deadmen. Stared death square in the face when Arthur had nearly crushed his windpipe. He'd have the fingerprint imprints till the end of his days to remember it by…Yet after it all, still he stays. Willing to face it all over again, all for his little brother. If that didn't make Allistor acknowledge Alfred's behaviour as the purest incarnate form of love, nothing ever would.

"Uh, dude? You good?, coz you're kinda zoning out there" Alfred's voice faded in and Allistor blinked rapidly before he realised how long he had been staring. His eyes went soft and Allistor felt himself smile as he reached out and messily ruffled the unsuspecting youth's head, much to the latter's protest. "Oi! Lemme go. Get-get off! Jeez, what was that for?" Alfred wiggled as he finally freed himself and stopped when he saw how warm the Scot's smile was. It was the same brotherly one he occasionally gave Arthur.

"Nothing sunny boy. Absolutely nothing," Allistor grinned before he coughed to clear the air and straightened up, "Now, listen ta me. If y'ar serious about coming ta the Capital with me, go ta dormitory an' pack ta travel light. The sun rises in a few hours an' we leave at dawn. Meet me on the ship yard by then, or I leave without you!". Alfred beamed back and gave a mock salute.

"Aye, aye Sir! The hero and his sidekick begin their whirlwind adventure! I'll see you later bro!" Alfred called back as he dashed down the corridor in the direction of the male dormitory, giggling hysterically as Allistor's cursing insults echoed off the walls behind him.

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace, Emperor Braginski's Office

Sunlight shone down from the glass opal pane behind him, but Ivan Braginski felt none of it's warmth. The star's rays were no longer able to reach the man's shrivelled organ that could of once resembled a heart. Ivan sat alone in the grand study, seated at the King's desk surrounded by papers that demanded his attention: intelligence reports, shipping lists, update letters from Cogs-Forge and new law papers to be approved or denied. It wasn't even the half of the royal duties Ivan had to attend to. The life of an ruler was…difficult to say the least. Adjusting to the lifestyle had been quite the obstacle for him. After all, Ivan and her sisters had come from a poverty stricken background, shamefully uneducated in their little tribe that had resided in the harsh northern mountains. Life back then had been very different, though no less trying then Ivan's present one. Simpler were the times when your greatest ambition was surviving the cold night to see the next morning dawn.

Of course, Ivan had also both his sisters back then as well. But now? Maria, his sweet elder sister, was gone. Untimely ripped out of her mortal coil. Her death had changed him, snapped something inside him that was beyond repair… With loss came denial, then the wrath of anger that distilled into hatred. Venomous hate that corroded his soul. It ate at him, consumed and devoured until rationality gave way to desperation. That was what sent him down the dark path to seek the return of his beloved Maria. Or rather, it was not he that had made the discovery.

Voices had began to whisper from the corners of his mind, many senseless until Ivan had answered back. A single voice had replied in turn. "How aoubt we mkae a dael?" The voice had purred, it's foreign language somehow understandable but simultaneously not. Ivan had made a deal with the devil: become a stringless puppet of hell in exchange for the return of his sister. He had agreed and the faceless devil used him to it's ends, the first being the annexing of the ruling royal family. It had been a long scheme that had involved Ivan entangling himself in the world of politics. His contractor pulling the strings where necessary until Ivan had found himself the most cherished in the King's Court, honourable and worthy. He had wormed his way into the royal family; attending their picnics and the like with the graceful queen Marie and her dotting children, Francis and Louise Epine. They had been a gracious and loving family, being on excellent terms with nearly all whom they came into contact with. They had ruled over the Isles justly and fairly, so much so that their region could almost of been considered a golden age.

And Ivan had been the one to end it when he had stabbed the King in the back. Watched impassively as the queen cried to have her childrens' lives spared with a matching necklace of rope around her neck. But Ivan had dropped them, watched their struggle, and then their surrender as they dangled. Thus ending the Epines royal bloodline. His hired mercenary army had seized the royal palace and they had newly christened it 'The Winter Palace'. After that, Ivan had had to work swiftly to secure his crown. The devil whispered strategies to him, "Klil tehm, tehy wlil nveer ylied. Set tehm at ecah ohetrs' traoths,", constantly enforcing his will to shape the Isles through his puppet king. The devil was his eye in the sky, his seer of potential threats, and he would had Ivan cut them down before they could pose a real one. The plot had succeeded, Ivan had secured his victory with his sister at his side and devil at his back. But it was only the first step towards the devil's true goals.

"Hnut dwon ervey sgline lnivig sorrcceer and birng tehm berfoe me". He had ordered, and Ivan had obeyed. He hadn't felt the frayed fingers of fear since the day he had agreed to their contract. The sorcery purge had ransacked the Isles, staining the new chapter in it's history books red. No matter how many Ivan brought forward, the devil was never satisfied. On the contrary, it's rage had grown. It had peaked (or so Ivan had prayed) when his third in command had brought back two sorcerers by the name of Kirkland. The devil had _not_ been pleased to be so close in achieving it's goal, and yet so far. It wanted, no, it _hungered_ for the one named Arthur Kirkland like a possessed beast starved. Dominated by it's unsavoury, lustful obsession to find the man.

But now, with Natasha's return from the North with him prisoner, Ivan would finally be able to see Maria again. He would fulfil his part of the contract, and the devil would fulfil his. An exchange of souls, if you would have it.

A knock at the door informed Ivan to a presence outside and when he called out to it, a small brunette peeked in.

"Your Majesty, Commander Arlovskaya's ship has returned from the North. Would you have her meet you here?" The servant's voice squeaked with his body still hidden behind the door as he didn't dare to take another step in. Ivan suppressed his smile and gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he rose.

"No. I will come down to the platform to greet her. That is all". Ivan waited until the servant closed the door before he turned to look through the stain glass window behind him. From the view, he could see the lower airship yard and all it's men that scrambled about it like worker ants. Natasha's ship descended slowly as it's ballon was deflated and mooring lines were tossed down to be secured. Ivan felt the unfamiliar glow of satisfaction spread throughout his chest. Natasha had done right by him, now he would do right by her.

* * *

The Capital, The Winter Palace, The Airship landing platform

Natasha walked like one condemned; feet dragged, head hung. Dark moons beneath her dulled eyes gave away the sleepless nights, and if you were to peer beneath her napoleon jacket, you would see a defined set of hollowed ribs. Yes, the days after Natasha had learnt her prisoner had escaped had been long, the nights even more so. The gaping blast hole that the reported intruder had left in the side of the ship mocked her as she trudged down the ramp to the platform. The attendees immediately swarmed up to the ship to unload it's contents, while the mechanics moved to forward to remove the damaged wooden boards. Their jobs were simple in their purpose and function. They knew their part, their place, and Natasha bitterly envied them for that. So much uncertainly and doubt clouded her path. Her terror of her brother's impending wrath once he learns of her failure threatened to cause the bile in her stomach to jump to and out of her mouth.

She reached the bottom of the ramp and took in a quivering breath before she raised her graze to catwalk that connected back to the Palace. Her brother approached on it, framed by the grey light of the snowy weather and sister Maria's scarf, the relic still wrapped around his neck. As he strode, brother's violet eyes held forward, looking expectantly towards her and the ship while the other workers behind him followed desperately. Each tried to draw her brother's attention with franticly waved papers and raised voices, yet the Emperor ignored them all. In another time, in _any_ other time, she would of revelled in the undivided attention. What irony that she should now dread the thing she carved most.

Natasha saw the exact moment her brother sensed something was off. His eyes narrowed suspiciously when he saw that no one was brought forward. That there was no prisoner by her side. His heavy steps slowed to a stop. Time, slowed to a stop. Natasha stared back her brother, her gaze wide and pleading and shaky.

A unspoken word: please. Natasha silently sighed the broken plea, her very soul a reverberating glass _tanged_ by a fork. Never before, had she felt so pathetically fragile. A dead expression of disappointment set the Emperor's lips into a tight line, his utterly resenting stare drowned Natasha. It forced her own to the floor and pinned it there. A little sob escaped through her chapped blue lips and when she dared look up, the Emperor had already turned his back on her. He walked away, leaving her alone to her shame and guilt. Ha-, she may dubbed an ice queen, but her brother was Old Man Winter himself. The crowd continued to throb and pulsate with movement around the still Natasha; surrounded by people, and yet never had she felt more alone.

"Ma'am? Um, shall I send forward your mission report to His Majesty?" A small voice asked somewhere behind her. Natasha didn't even find the energy to shake her head, it took all she had simply not to break down. A translucent pearl wobbled in the corner of her eye before it fell, trailing down her ghostly white cheek to splash on the tip of her steel toed boot.

"No. That will not be necessary. He already knows"

* * *

The Nordic Kingdom, The Royal Palace, The Airship yard

Sat high on the snowy rooftops overlooking the ship yard, the blind sorcerer and Vladimir Popescu waited side by side with drink in hand, their cloaks clasped tight to warn away the chilled air and flurries of flakes. Below them, Allistor's ship stood ready; the preparation of it all had been kept low-key to avoid rumours of the sorcerer's departure. The far off horizon was beginning to stain orange and pink as the first day's rays flared out, and this was the time when Allistor Kirkland climbed up onto the tilted tiled rooftop. The Scot heaved himself up and sat himself down beside his kin, dumping down his duffel bag that contained his and Arthur's effects at his feet. He nodded gratefully when Vlad extended a drink his way and took a long gulp.

"Hm," Allistor remarked as he smacked his lips together and held up the cup, "Dwarfish. Thought Thornbor would be tha next time I drink this sweet elixir". Vlad meekly smiled and Lukas raised his cup in agreement.

"To dwarfish fire water, and to all else that is good in this world!" He pronounced and Allistor and Vlad cheered and chuckled heartily before they all took a deep swig at the burning liquid. Their laughter died out as the atmosphere gently sobered. A quiet peace settled down upon the men like a silk transparent veil. The men turned their faces to the new dawn, listening to the quiet commotion of the sailors. It was that rare moment of self-aware tranquility, the forward path was clear for Allistor. He knew his place in the world, and he was content.

Allistor sighed easily as the crisp winter's breath enveloped around him. "After everything that fate been thrown at us, here we still stand. Ma direction calls me ta the King's land. Where does yours?" He asked aloud and looked to Lukas and Vlad with a smile. Lukas swished his cup around as he thought.

"To scholar's desk, to learn the sacred knowledge of Names of Power. Only but a fraction of their power is known, and now to learn that the Emperor has the means to abuse them, I fear for us all. If I can unravel the secrets behind them, then perhaps I could help you Vladimir. Help you and all those who have been robbed," Lukas answered and placed a hand on Vlad's knee. "I want to help you Vlad. I do. So please, would you allow it?".

Vlad looked at Lukas and then back down to the hand that comforted his knee. Allistor couldn't tell exactly what was going through the man's head, and partly, he did not wish to know. Vlad's face contorted with uncertainty before he hesitantly placed his hand over Lukas'.

"I-I'd like that" Vlad nervously replied and returned the smile that Lukas gave him. Allistor smirked with a roll of his eyes.

"Gods, get a room boys" He snorted and gave the pair a playful shove, causing them to burst into another fit of laughter. Allistor swiped a whelming tear from his eye as he trailed off chuckling when down below across the yard, Allistor saw the blonde head of Alfred run up to his ship. The youth looked flushed in the face and frantic with dishevelled hair and shirt. His wooden black cloak and grey scarf shrouded the small bag he carried, it's inner contents messily crammed into it.

"Ah, there's sunny boy. I better be away" Allistor stated as he set his drink down and moved to the edge of the rooftop. Lukas and Vlad hurried to their feet.

"Wait, Allistor. Vladimir and I didn't invite you up here just for a send off drink. I- we, have something we would like to give to you" Lukas spoke and drew out a small sack out of his pocket. The pouch juggled heavily as he placed it in Allistor's open palm. "I provided the material and Vladimir required the inscription".

Allistor nodded his thanks and undid the string. He gasped when he saw what Vlad and Lukas given him. Four pearl bones in the shape and size of a domino, each bearing a different rune on one side.

"Seer stones!," Allistor exclaimed, "Bloody hell, where'd you find the whale bones? They're been extinct for years".

"Passed down through the family. Though, we could never quite decipher which runes had to be engraved, what with the triple meanings and all. It was Vlad who filled in the gaps" Lukas explained and missed Vlad's light blush at the compliment. Allistor gave Vlad a wink.

"Thank you, Vladdie. How do they work?". Vlad looked to Lukas to see if he was going to explain, but when he made no move to, Vlad sighed.

"Uh, th-the concept is simple enough. You decide a question and throw the stones up in the air. If they land and the runes face upwards, the answer to your question is yes, and vice versa". Allistor raised a eyebrow as he shook the stones.

"Right. Any rules concerning the questions asked?"

"Well, no direct rules per say, though there are limitations. Questions concerning the past will always give you a clean answer, as the event has already occurred. Present questions more or less work the same as the past save the answers can be liable to change due to changes in decisions. The future is the most difficult to get a solid answer, with there being so many routes it may go. If you admit to ask about the far future, a question like 'Will the Lotus Isle conquer Jasmine?', the stones would not be able to give a finite answer because there are so many variables that could alter that outcome". Vladimir explained and Allistor nodded in response.

"Let's try it. Is my name Allistor Kirkland?," He threw up the stones and caught them. Two showed runes and two did not. "Ya gave me broke stones mate" Allistor criticised and Lukas shook his head.

"They are not broke Allistor. In some cases, you have to be very specific about what your asking for. You see, when you say 'name', are you referring to your given name: Allistor Kirkland, or your true Name?".

The Scot pursued his lips as he thought of another question and shook the stones again, "Okay, specific. Uh, will Alfred Jones and I arrive safely in tha Capital?". The stones were thrown and when they landed, all the rune symbols were face up. Allistor split into a wide grin and pocketed the precious stones, "They work".

Lukas gave a disbelieving tut, "Oh, of course they do, ye of little faith…,". The man trailed off with a hesitant pause, before he stepped forward and drew Allistor into an unexpected embrace. "Do be careful Allistor. Return with Arthur to us safe and swift, I do not wish to lose the two of you". Allistor gave a single laugh as if say how emotional Lukas was being, but he nevertheless returned the gesture.

"My old friend, thank you. For everything" Allistor softly whispered quietly before he pulled away, one hand still resting on Lukas' shoulder as he turned to Vlad with a wink. "Take care of yourself Vlad. I expect to hear great things from you and Lukas when I get back". Vlad gave a small chuckle and bowed his head to Allistor in respect, with Allistor lightly mirrored the action and picked up his bag, before turning to step off the rooftop. He gave one last look back and jumped, landing heavily on the snow crested ice and darted quickly over to Alfred. The young rebel jumped in surprise when Allistor sped past him up the ramp onto the ship.

"Whoa! Dude! You scared the bejabbers outta me!" Alfred cried as he quickly followed Allistor onto the creaking wooden deck. When they had both stepped on, the pilot that had been stationed at the wheel motioned for the waiting crew that they were off and began to man the controls. Soon the ship was making it's ascendent into the snowy heavens and Allistor watched beside Alfred over the ledge the Nordic royal palace grow smaller. The blizzard was only light but the wind was nippy, and Allistor shivered as he saw the shrinking sorcerers turn away and head back inside. Around them, the crew worked to unfurl the sails and fire up the purring engine while on Allistor's left, Alfred watched silently. The boy's brow was troubled, ageing his face.

"What's wrong sunny boy? Y'ar wee prick chilly?" Allistor teased with a jib at Alfred's ribs. When no reaction came, Allistor felt his childish mood leave him. "Oi, what's eating ya?". Alfred blinked and came back to earth, his eyes behind his glasses misted.

"It's nothing, it can't be changed now" Alfred glumly replied with a pouting lower lip, sounding positively miserable. The Scot internally rolled his eyes and turned to give Alfred a hard look.

"Now you listen ta me, _Jones_. Once upon a time, when I had an issue of ma own, some cheeky pip of a git told me ta suck in ma balls an' get over myself," Alfred smirked when he remembered the moment in front of the training hall, "An' I wanted nothin' more than ta punch the bastard's perfect teeth in. But I didn't, an' ya know why? Because, he was sickeningly right…Now it's time take ya own advice. Harden y'ar heart an' tell me what's wrong".

Alfred Jones had one last mental tug of war with himself before he surrendered. "I never told you but, I never actually got permission to leave the Resistance. I-I've deserted, I'm a traitor. When I went to grab my stuff, my brother- Matt was there. And, when I told him what I was doing, he…he said some pretty harsh stuff. I don't know if he's ever gonna forgive me" Alfred despaired and quickly rubbed his wet eyes with his forearm. Allistor closed his own and let out a long exhale. He and Arthur really had messed up his life. A sudden grip clasped around Allistor's arm.

"But I'm serious about this! I have to go and save Arthur," Alfred stated, his eyes wide and desperate "please don't send me back. I need to know he's okay". Allistor reassuringly patted the hand that gripped him and roughly closed Alfred close, resting his blonde head on his shoulder.

"There there lad. The damage's been done, the past can't be changed. It's okay to feel regret an' sadness, ya don't have to push it down ta appear strong. Real strength is overcoming it, and that's exactly what we are going ta do. Now we're going ta rescue Arthur, an' we're goin' ta do it as a team," He pulled away to look at him.

"Are you with me, brother?"

Alfred took a sniff and furiously nodded his head. "Y-yeah, yeah I'm with you bro". Allistor grinned and clapped Alfred on the back before they both turned to look at the rising morning sun.

* * *

Well, Allistor, you have a new brother to look after now. So, we're got adventure, we're got angst, we're got Allistor a cool new fortune telling stones. Some history explained from Ivan's first point of view chapter and foul air between Alfred and Matthew. Although I will be taking a break to do exams and the like, I am super hyped to get the plot steam rolling.

 **This is the pre ultimate chapter for Hetalia - The Cold of War. The next chapter will be the final one before I bring out next sequel.**

Thank you reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this series and wish to see it continue, please consider taking the time to leave a review leaving me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!


	31. Chapter 31 - The Long Game

Hetalia - The Cold of War

Chapter 31! I Liiivveeeee! Exams are finally over and it's time for the final chapter of Hetalia- The Cold of War! I'd just like to thank everyone who has stuck with this series and you gems that have been sending in lovely reviews that make posting worth it.

Not only have I have the next story in the series lined up, **Hetalia - Turn of the Tide, but I have another short story that I will post that follows one of adventures of the Kirkland brothers when they were teenagers called Hetalia - The Kirklands and the Vorpal Blade.** I won't say to much, but I will say that certain familiar _angelic_ faces will be making an appearance. Be sure to follow me as a writer so you can be alerted when I post the new stories.

 **Also I light of my country's new referendum, I posted a one-shot story themed around it featuring some Fruk. It's called Hetalia - Black Sheep of Europe and if it gets attention, I may continue it.**

Now without further delay, I present the last chapter of Hetalia - The Cold of War,

Enjoy!

* * *

The Capital's Red light Distinct, Madam Cat's Pleasure House, Seven years into the Past

Francis Bonnefoy was bored. Maddeningly so. They were closed, and yet Madam had still insisted that Francis work the front desk until the last of the customers had left. Francis hated it. Not only was his presence there completely unnecessary, but the desperate need for a smoke spoiled his hospitable work ethic. Francis groaned in annoyance and lifted his head up slightly from his pillow arms. The reception area wasn't much to look at, rectangular in shape with a narrow staircase on the front desk' left and a corridor on the right that led backwards into the building to the guest rooms. The gas lighting was a dim orange and the air was held a perfumed husk to it. Hammering raindrops pelted against the window stutters and mercifully drowned out the usual nightly noises that came with working in the business. They were not, however, loud enough to cover the descending clip clop of Madam's signature stilettos.

The mistress of the pleasure house came to the bottom of the stairs and leaned on her side against the stairway, a lit cigarette held between her long, slender fingers. She was a woman in her early forties with the body of a former ballerina instructor, tall and too skinny to look healthy. Her styled black bob was partly hidden by a draping silk headscarf and a beauty mark was printed beneath her left eye.

Francis had been working with her for a long time. It had all started at her private dance studio where she had hired and trained him to perform in competitions (with waltz and foxtrot being his forte), for cash prizes. They had led a quaint life, but as times became tiring, Madam had been forced to close the studio and Francis had followed her when she moved into the sex industry. The rest was history. Back in the present, Madam curled her red lips at Francis in amusement.

"How are you feeling, darling?" She purred and Francis dropped his head back down on his arms in protest.

"I need a smoke" He gruffly replied and his frown deepened when he heard her gave a disapproving tut.

"You know boy, this is going to turn into a habit if you're not careful" She scorned with a wave of her own cigarette. Francis fully lifted his head and gave her his most pissed off look, making it clear that he was not in the mood to play their usual games. She narrowed her eyes at the attitude but surrendered with a sigh. On her part, he had come to be like a son, moody and disrespectful at times sure, but she'd be secretly devastated if anything were to happen to him. She knew how things were one sided though, Francis treated her as his employer and no more.

"I hid your stash behind the first aid kit. Five minutes around the back, darling. I don't pay you to smoke" She finally relented and threw Francis her golden vintage lighter. Francis caught the lighter in a smooth movement as he rose and headed for the kitchen.

"You 'ardly pay me at all" He muttered as he retrieved a pack from his stash's hiding place and strode back out into the corridor to get to the backdoor. He threw open the door and stepped out into the dark thin alley as the humid summer rain continued to fall down. Francis bit down on a cigarette between his teeth as he struggled to ignite the expensive lighter with both hands. It took him three attempts to get a flame and once the cigarette end was lit, he took a long drag and rested his head back against the brick wall. His clothes and hair were beginning to soak but he couldn't care in that moment. He was just finally happy to taste the calming nicotine effects.

He was about to take another deep inhale when a loud noise caused Francis' head to turn sideways and see a way off dark figure that stumbled and collapsed to the ground. Francis huffed a laugh and went back to his light. Lurkers, they were always trying to get a peek at the girls. Damn perverts.

"Probably drunk off 'is ass" Francis hummed to himself with another glance over and felt a prick of worry sting him when he saw that the figure hadn't moved an inch. They didn't even seem to be breathing as they lay soaking in the mud. Francis scoffed and tried to ignore the prickling feeling that ached him. Instead the feeling only worsened and Francis was forced to throw his cigarette down in frustration.

"Zalut" He cursed at himself as he stamped out the end and trudged towards the downed figure. As Francis drew closer, he gasped when he saw that the figure was not one of the usual suspects, but instead a young boy only three years younger than he. The boy wore a deep green cloak that was caked in mud and drowned to the bone, his blonde hair plastered to his head and he was ghostly pale with no colour. A bag was clutched under one of his arms and his other fist was clenched suspiciously tight. Two comically thick eyebrows crowned the screwed shut eyes. Francis darted forward and dropped to his knees, posing his head above the boy's gaping mouth and was relieved to find that the boy still breathed; though the breaths were worryingly shallow. Francis gulped and, with great difficulty, hoisted one of the boy's arms over his shoulder and proceeded to half carry, half drag him back towards the backdoor.

They left a trail of water after them as Francis took him towards the desk. Madam cried out when she saw the two.

"Who is he?" She demanded in a shill voice and Francis could barely shrug his shoulder from under the boy's weight.

"I do not know. I found 'im collapsed in the alley" Francis explained. Madam gave him a reluctant look and motioned to the staircase with her head.

"Take him up to my quarters and run a bath while I sort things out here". Francis gave a nod of thanks and roughly dragged the boy up to the second floor. Madam's quarters and bathroom was right at the end of the hallway and it took Francis some time to reach it before he could finally kick the door open. The room was the largest of all bedrooms in the building, split into two halves with the door actually opening to the bedroom itself while an open en suite coupled on the side. As gently as he could, Francis propped the boy against the mosaic-tiled wall and jogged over to turn on the taps on full blast to fill the foot claw tub. Turning back to the limp boy, Francis realised with embarrassment, that he would have to strip the boy of his clothing.

"Sorry about this" He murmured as he began to take off the boy's wet clothing, stiffly prying the bag out of his grasp and the clenched fingers from the item that the boy stubbornly clutched. He was surprised to find that the item was some kind of large fang on a cord, too large to have could from any animal. He set it aside with the bag with care, aware that the fang must have significance to the boy for him to clutch onto it so strongly. When all that was left to do was remove the cotton underpants, Francis pointedly kept his eyes directed away from the boy's southern end. He felt it wasn't right to look when he didn't even know his name, his morales did however, allow him to appreciate the lean muscles that lined the boy's slight frame. With a faint blush, he lowered the boy's form into the steaming water.

The blonde head rolled back against the smooth edge and Francis leaned over to the brass taps to grab the sponge placed there and stop the flowing water as it's level came to chest height. After applying a generous amount of body lotion, Francis kneeled beside the tub and got to work scrubbing away the layers of mud and dirt away from the boy's skin. He started at the toes and worked his way up, finishing up by wiping away the splatters of soil across the boy's cheek; admiring the fairness of his complex as he did.

Done with the body, Francis leaned back to grab a bucket and filled it with water. He poured it over the boy's head, grabbed the Madam's favourite bottle of shampoo that smelt of roses and gleefully tipped half of it over his hands and began to work in his fingers as though he were giving a massage. There was a knock on the door and Madam strode in with the usual finesse of a peacock.

"Is he awake?" She asked as she walked over with a dart of her eyes to look at the set aside pile of clothing. Francis continued to rub in the shampoo and answered with looking away.

"Non, he 'asn't even stirred" He replied in a neutral tone and smirked when she gave a sudden cry of outrage.

"Francis, you brute! You used my imported stuff. Purposefully to I imagine, knowing you!". Francis shrugged.

"It was what was closest" He justified with his poker face, silently chuckling at her disapproval. Madam glared him before she spun on her heel.

"I'll just have to subtract the funds out of your wage to replace it then, won't I?" She huffed and strode for the door. Francis choked on nothing and craned his neck back to look at her.

"What?! Thats 'ardly fair! Oi! what am I supposed to do with 'im?" He cried as she placed a hand on the doorknob.

"Dry him off and put him to bed. I'll question him in the morning". Francis frowned at her.

"But all the beds are taken. Mine is the only one free" He complained as she walked out and down the corridor.

"Pity!" Her sarcastic answer echoed back and Francis could only accept defeat.

"Fantastic" He sighed as he refilled the bucket to rinse away the soapy lather in the boy's hair. He pulled out the tub's stopper and as the water drained, he got up to reach the Madam's white towel so that he could dry the boy off. After finishing, the boy looked in vastly better health than when he had been half an hour ago, his choppy hair a fluffy golden halo around his head. Francis stole the Madam's silk dressing gown off it's peg and robed the boy in it before he lifted him into his arms and staggeringly carried him to his broom cupboard of a room. He laid down his patient and tucked him under the patchwork cover, doubling back to bring in his stuff and dump the foiled clothes in the wash basket with the girls' things. Back in his room, Francis slumped down on the stuffy armchair that Chloé had shoved into his room and rested his head back exhausted.

"This was not 'ow I envisioned tonight ending" Francis thought as he drifted off, exhausted of an evening of taking care of a stranger.

Time passed…

Francis snapped awake the moment he heard the screaming. His startled eyes darted about the room before they focused on his bed, whose occupant thrashed about in a night terror.

"Seamus! Ah, All-istor. Dylan! Dylan no!" He screamed out in a mangled voice with his unseeing eyes wide open with terror. Francis clambered to his feet and leant down to still the boy's erratic movements. As he held down the limbs that threatened to slap him across the face, Francis felt that his skin was hot to the touch and when he tested the boy's forehead, his dreaded suspicions were confirmed. The boy had a raging fever. A knock resounded outside Francis' door and he groaned that the screams had woken up the girls.

"Are you alright, Francis?," A musical voice spoke out, "We heard screaming and were worried". The door creaked open and Francis saw that all the girls had crowded outside his door to peek in. He inwardly groaned again. Madam would have his head for causing the girls to wake early. The speaker was a young woman with pretty bluebell eyes and blue-black pigtails. Francis gave her his most reassuring smile.

"I am well, thank you Marionette. It is our guest 'ere. He 'as a fever. Would you fetch me a wetted cloth and a glass of water? Merci" Francis replied and nodded his head in thanks when Marionette agreed and went off. Another girl around the same age as Marionette, with tanned skin and sandy hair leaned in to get a better look.

"So who is he?"

"That's what I would like to know" Madam's voice rung out and caused all the girls to jump in surprise. The mistress marched into Francis' room as the girls parted like water for her. She looked the ill boy's flushed sweating face and sighed.

"Have you found out anything at all?" She quizzed and Francis shook his head.

"Only that he 'as a bad fever. Ah, thank you Marionette" He said as said girl returned and handed him his requested items. He raised the cool glass to the boy's chapped lips and slowly trickled the icy liquid in as Madam watched and pouted her lips. After a moment of consideration, she clapped her hands for attention.

"Seeing as everyone is already awake, we start business early today girls. Chloé, you will be covering for Francis while he looks after our guest," the girl moaned at the assignment and Madam clapped her hands again with greater urgency.

"Come on girls. We are running a business here. Charlotte, Nicole, you are on laundry. Marionette, you are on supply run and Lola, you are with me today" Madam dished out her orders and girls all nodded in response before they trailed off to complete them. Marionette gave Francis a sweet little wave before she headed back to her room to change. Madam turned her sights back on Francis.

"Medicine is behind the mirror in the washroom" She stated and abruptly left, leaving Francis alone with his guest. The man groaned and had the fevered boy finish the last of his water. It took awhile but he eventually did find fever relief behind the mirror and on returning to his room with the brown bottle in hand, Francis heard the waking stirs of the boy and saw the flutter of his eyelids.

When his eyes did open, Francis found himself holding his breath tensely. As dazed as they were from the fever, Francis saw how beautifully green the boy's eyes were, framed by long fair lashes. The boy's breaths hitched frantically as he weakly looked about his surroundings and didn't recognise them. He tried to raise himself up on shaking limbs but grunted when his fragile strength gave out on him. His heart hammered in his chest as he made distressed whimpers like that of a frightened animal. Francis went to him while making the same comforting shushing noises his mother used to make for him as a child, and gently applied pressure on the boy's shoulder to settle him.

"Sh, sh. Calm yourself. You are alright" He comforted and smiled when he saw the boy's panic partly come down, his eyes having trouble on focusing on his face.

"Where am I? Who are you?" He wobbly asked and Francis smiled at the charming accent he spoke with. It sounded so much more pleasant when it wasn't screamed.

"My name is Francis Bonnefoy. We are in Madam Cat's pleasure 'ouse in the red light district of the Capital. I found you collapsed around the back alley in the rain last night. Try to save your strength, you 'ave a nasty fever" Francis soothingly explained as he rested a hand on top of the boy's only to retract it when the boy pulled away. He scowled and looked down, his irises shrank when he realised he was wearing only a thin robe.

"Where's my stuff" He attempted to demand, only for it to come out weak and drained. Francis motioned to the bag behind him.

"There. As for your clothes, they were filthy that they 'ave to be washed. Seeing as you know my name, may I know yours?". The boy frowned suspiciously at Francis and pulled the covers up over himself higher.

"John. John Smith" 'John' answered and didn't meet Francis' eyes.

"Liar," Francis thought as he looked at the boy with intrigue. He knew all about false names, the sign in book on the desk downstairs had over hundred 'John Smith's and 'Mr. X'. But, if 'John' was going to be this way, he might as well play along. After all, it was the only name Francis had to go off.

"Well then, John. Tell me how you came to collapse in the back alley?" He asked aloud and saw something like a shadow move behind John's eyes. The same terror that had quaked him in his night terror came back to haunt him. John's eyes bulged as the blood emptied from his face. His lips shook and his tongue grew thick and useless.

"I ran…" John's quivering voice cracked and his whole face contorted with agony. Francis watched hopelessly as the youth laying in his bed cracked. He began with an empty sob, as though he didn't have enough air to complete it, and then he began to wail ribcage shaking weeps, half choked cries. Thick hot tears ran down from his screwed shut eyes and nose, and he curled in on himself as he howled like the wounded animal he was.

Francis went to the sobbing boy, and drew him into his arms, pulling the boy's blonde halo close and rested it on his collarbone. He held the embrace even as John didn't move to reciprocate it; his tears slowly soaking through Francis' shirt. The french man's heart clenched torturously for the soul he knew in his heart, but not in his mind. A connection was there that Francis did not understand. This boy's pain was his pain. His heart was his heart, and they were both broken.

Tenderly, Francis brought his hand up to cup the back of John's head, faint tears of his own in under his lids. Pity, sorrow and heartbreak whelmed up in Francis. Part him did not understand, but the other half did, the one that ruled his heart. He felt for this boy so profusely, so completely, that it would not surprise him if his existence, was to exist for him. Francis pressed John closer, their heart beats, their every souls resonating within each other. Francis knew, he understood that he was in love, and he understood that it couldn't be restricted, nor confined to simply one form. It wasn't just the romantic Eros, it was Philia, it was Ludus and it was Pragma. Francis felt every type, every intangible form of love that could be conceptualised for this boy. And he knew that it would never change.

"I am here, John. I am here" Francis softly soothed and carded his fingers through the boy's golden globe, his locks silk to the touch. The fragrance of roses from last night was light and the boy's natural scent could be detected under it.

"Arthur," John's voice quietly hiccuped, the volume muffled by Francis' shirt, "My name…is Arthur". Francis sighed at the wholly rightness of the name. It fitting, so well that the idea that he could of ever been called anything else was laughable.

"Arthur" Francis breathed and reality shifted. Francis was no longer sitting on the bed with Arthur in his arms. He was his real age, watching the memory proceed as an outsider observer. The scene continued as Francis watched his younger self hold the younger Arthur. A second joined him, a presence stepped in existence behind him.

"What happened then?" The presence's voice vibrated through the dream, causing it to ripple like a pebble thrown into a pond. Francis took in a cleansing breath and watched the scene fondly.

"It was slow but he recovered. He learnt 'ow to be himself again, stubborn and 'ot-headed. He used money he had saved in the bank to buy an apartment, and when he asked if I wanted to live with him, I said yes. We converted the first floor into a shop to make a living, and we did just that. We lived… It took him three years to tell me the truth. About his magic and his brothers"

"It took you seven"

"That was different" Francis defensively snapped, biting his lip as he thought back on the contents of the letter he sent to Arthur.

"Was it?," The presence pushed and received no reply, "You want to see him?" it continued as though reading Francis' thoughts. Francis looked over to the younger Arthur.

"I haven't 'eard anything since the day I sent that letter. I miss 'im". There was a pause.

"What would you say then, if I told you that Arthur needed your help right now?". Francis thought and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

"I would say, take me there now" He replied and heard a loud snap as the scene rippled into a different one. The younger Francis and Arthur dissolved and were replaced with a location Francis had never seen before. They were in a rounded low building of sorts, made of red clay and wood. A large section of the wall was open to the elements and had a porch that stretched out over a calm lake body. On the porch were two figures, one was lying down and the other hid them from view with their bulky frame. Francis could see in the mid-morning light that the larger of the man had a wild long mane of copper and impressive back muscles that rolled under the midnight blue tattoos that decorated them. There was a filled bowl beside them and the man ritualistically dipped a wet cloth into it, before stretching it towards the other man.

"This is where Arthur is?" Francis asked puzzled, not able to spy the indivisible smile that the presence harboured.

"Look closer. He is right in front of you" The presence revealed and Francis felt his heart skip a beat when he finally saw who the other one was. Arthur was lying on his side, naked save for his simple pants. Two huge snow-white wings lay next to him, attached to his shoulder blades. Francis took a step back and opened and closed his mouth repeatably in shock.

"C'est impossible!" He stammered and yelped when the fiery haired man snapped his head around as if he had heard him. The man had a fierce intimating face, with dominating predator eyes like that of a jaguar guarding it's young.

"Who is there?" He growled and unsheathed the knife strapped to his lower back as he rose, wielding it in the icepick grip. His hawk eyes scanned the room for the indivisible presence. Francis realised that he had been holding his breath and forcibly released it. The presence behind him laughed at Francis' needless unease.

"Easy, he cannot see nor hear us. He is merely more psychically sensitive than I anticipated"

"That is not what concerns me" Francis corrected with his eyes returned to Arthur and found that he could not look away. The presence him radiated a chill, Francis' answer had not pleased him.

"Are you afraid of him?" It asked slowly, inviting Francis to be careful with his answer.

Francis shook his head,"Not afraid. Just…confused. 'ow could he have wings?" he replied, feeling lost in it all.

"His mother is an Angel and his father stands in front of you," The presence explained, a warmth to it's voice as it wanted Francis to understand. "Arthur's mother had placed a seal on his Angel's grace which had kept the signs of his angelic nature hidden. It was only until recently that the seal broke and Arthur's grace was reawakened". Francis shivered but oddly, no great dread nor shock came over him. He felt strangely understanding. Akin to that moment where a secret was whispered to you, but you already possessed that sweet secretive feeling of already knowing it. The presence made a musing sound.

"Most would be in denial over this revelation, and yet you are are not?" It questioned aloud, aware of the answer before Francis was.

"My desire to help him, is stronger than my fear… How? What can I do, that 'is father, a powerful sorcerer, can not?" Francis pleaded with a real need, his voice shaking by the last two words. The presence chuckled lightly and closed the distance between them so that it stood only a few inches from his shoulder.

"When you wake, you will have an ability that will be essential to waking Arthur. You will have a charmed tongue, one with the power to sway other's will to your's. Your words will become silver, and those who hear them will submit to your influence" The presence spoke and Francis finally found the strength to turn around and look at the presence.

The presence. He was everyone, and no one. He was meaning and he was infinite. Beautiful and ugly, straight and twisted simultaneously. He was disease and he was the cure. Francis stood face to face with Love given form, and he had never felt so complete in himself. So wonderfully whole that tears pricked his eyes.

"You" Francis uttered.

"Me" He confirmed.

"Us" They echoed and dually smiled at each other. Francis felt a sob build in his chest and escape as Eros only smiled brighter.

"Hello again Francis," He gently spoke and Francis felt himself shiver at it's harmonising pitch, the feeling comparable to having a stung cord struck inside of him. "one born under my star, and my human self". Francis closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. There was no discord, no confusion. No lies or half truths. Something clicked inside Francis spiritually, slid into the void he wasn't aware he had. He was a god, a god in human form. He was the piece that Eros had separated from himself, the piece he had reincarnated into a human. Yes, Francis was Eros, but he was equally his own person. Separate, but not from himself…When Eros spoke again, a warning guarded his words.

"I wish that we had time to talk on lighter topics, but there is no time for that. Tonight I give you a warning. There are dark times ahead for our beloved sister's world and her men. Brother Tartus lies patiently as he has his demonic underlings do his work, with his chosen, Haldis at the helm. That fallen one… he is impatient now. His hunger has corroded to famine, and as we speak, he has learnt that his puppet has failed him.

He will not make the mistake of relying on men again. Haldis will send a demon, a wickedly bloody one, to pursue Arthur. Be wary, the demon is as relentless as it is unpredictable, using mirrors and any other reflection available to teleport from location to location. The demon is deadly, with venom will paralyse you and a knife that can cut through metal like paper…You know what you must?". Francis steeled his resolved and nodded.

"Be the sage but play the fool. I will protect Arthur, but not on the front line. I will become his support, his guide," It amazed Francis where these words were freely coming from, and yet they told from heart and they were the truth.

"The pieces are coming together," Eros stated and winked at Francis, "Never fear, petit moi. My intuition will steer you on the right path, trust it. Now, are you ready to wake? Travel to Capital and reunite with your love?". The dream rippled once again as it's light grew so that nothing else could be seen. Francis smiled as he felt himself returning to the mortal realm, and turned to look back to his other self to give his answer. But Eros was already gone.

* * *

The Astral Plane, Unknown, Unknown

Somewhere, unreachable by any human hand, two immortal gods sat opposite to one another. A vast galactic chessboard spanned between the titanic beings, and was incomplete in it's sets. Pieces from each were missing, notably the black queen next to it's lonely king. The two players however, did not seem to care for the absences. In fact, they had hardly touched any of their pieces, instead favouring to observe the board. It was a game of foresight see, each scanning into the future to read the other's move, which would then in turn be changed when the other foresaw how to counter it. This cycle went on to repeat itself, over and over again, with neither player actually lifting a finger to make a move. Truly, the most frustrating, most boring game to watch in existence. The two, as ever, sat and thought, when there was a change.

A miniature comet combusted into being, whistling as it dove. It collided with the board with a great CRACK! The exploding supernova shrank, and then crystallised to form a new white bishop. A new piece had entered the board. The figure, the white bishop, was craved from the whitest, purest concentration of stardust, with impossibly delicate features. Fashioned so lifelike, that it was though the man it was stylised after, was there in frozen form.

The two gods awoke from their trancelike stillness, their gazes blinked and pondered the new piece. It's owner reached out to pluck it up.

"Brother has been busy" The goddess mused with a soft pout of her lips, lightly amused by her new addition. She turned the white bishop over and watched how the light played off her piece's handsome face that shared it's shape with her brother's human self. Hmmm, Eros had been extremely clever to find such a loophole on their board.

A grunt echoed from against a distance and caused the goddess to look up minimally. The god, her brother, the one she hated and loved the most, grunted another laugh.

"We agreed. No interference. Throw it away" His voice reverberated through space, it's magnitude rattling the stars that winked as they watched the great game.

"There are no official rules against it," Gaia returned airily as she returned the piece to it's proper place, "and brother did work so hard to find a way to include himself. I will keep it"

Tartus huffed another mocking laugh, "It may be brother's, but it has no real power. One of my pawns could look at it and it'd crumble".

"I see that it's strength lies elsewhere," She countered and tutted at her brother "careful. You always do this. You always underestimate my men".

Tartus snickered. "Why should I fear them? Why should any god fear a being less than them? Your little mud monkeys are worse than weak. They're pathetic, because they do not understand nor accept their absolute powerlessness" Tartus growled and Gaia laughed loudly, full in his face.

"Hah! Were you asleep when mother taught us how to play the game? A wise player covers all their bases and plans several moves ahead. Knowledge is power, brother dear, that was what we were taught" She spat and felt satisfied when her brother's face screwed up in anger.

"Power is power, sister. That was what father taught"

"You are not father," Gaia hissed through her teeth, "you will never be him". The board quaked as Gaia's mood turned foul, the watching stars screamed in their silent tongue and dimmed their light fearfully. Tartus closed his eyes with a smug smile and danced his finger over the place of his missing back queen.

"So hypocritical. You accuse me of imitating father, and yet, which of the two of us is really trying to be our parents? I imagine mother is smiling down on you as we speak. Her darling dotting daughter, trying to fill her footsteps". Gaia ignored the bait and instead narrowed her eyes at Tartus' dancing finger.

"What game are you playing, brother. I took my queen a hundred years ago, I had expected you've of done the same. Why have you rejected all the queens that have come to you? There were plenty suitable for selection" She asked as she picked up her own, her favourite piece on the whole board. It was beautifully sculptured, and shone with a pearly glow that boasted it's baby new immortality. Her queen, held a special place in her heart. After all he was, by blood, her little grandson. Her white queen was sculptured with his wings raised upward for flight, blade poised raised ready for battle. Gaia wished that the piece had colour to it so that she could marvel the precious gold that was his hair and the emerald green that was his eyes. She cradled the piece before closing her fingers protectively around it. Why did Tartus not take a queen? Her brother slyly smiled that coy smile of his.

"None are worthy of the crown," Tartus answered simply, pleased to see his sister unnerved, unsure of herself. It thrilled him to know that he had shaken her, she who thought she was so above him. "I have particular taste. You will see…Shall we?". Gaia huffed and replaced her queen. The galaxies orbiting them continued to beautifully swirl, milky dust particles of violet, blue and silver. The Astral plane seemed to breathe and sigh as the two host gods settled back into their previous trance state, closing their eyes that saw the present and opened them to the future. They weren't on the same plane anymore, each had retreated inside their own mind; theorising, planning, and then replaying all the possible futures. The cyclic dance resumed.

Gaia secretly smiled as she breathed evenly and re-reviewed her last strategy. Brother was cunningly playing the long game with her. And that was fine, because she was doing exactly the same with him.

* * *

That's a wrap everyone! Again, I'd like to thank everyone who has been following this tale and your continued reviews. **This story would of never have gotten this far if not for all you and your reviews. Any so from here now, I promise to answer every single review with a PM**. Something I should have been doing a long time ago.

I am so excited for the next story, we're going to be introducing new characters, new locations, see the return of old faces and dive into explorations of their backgrounds. The stakes are building and I hope you are all as psyched as I am.

 **The short story about the Kirkland brothers, Hetalia - The Kirklands and the Vorpal Blade will be posted shortly after this chapter so be sure to follow me as a writer to be alerted when I post! I'll see you all in the next one and as always,**

 **Until next time folks!**


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